
The Happy Clown
He wakes before the big top hums,
with baggy pants and polished thumbs
a whistle bright between his teeth
he skips the steps, all joy beneath
His hat’s too big, his nose is red
a daisy squirts, a pie near spread
yet every child who meets his gaze
lights up beneath the laughter haze
He doesn’t speak in riddled tones
or hide behind a thousand moans
his smile is real, his heart is wide
he wears his kindness like a guide
They call him clown, they call him fool
but he’s the sunshine in the school
the voice that giggles in the breeze
a friend to sorrow, quick to tease
At night, he folds away his face
yet joy still lingers in its place
for every giggle he has sown
he carries quietly, alone
No spotlight, crown, or famous name,
just love, and laughter, not for fame
the world may turn its heavy frown
he lifts it, gently—he’s the clown.

About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️


Comments (3)
wow so amazing
This poem will cheer any one up!!
This put a smile on my face :-)