Tastebuds of a Clown

Outward downpours of glee

serves as a cliffhanger once the belt

Is released from the arm

that houses the abused vein

A temporary moment of darkness

makes love to the sunshine that

bakes the go-lucky easy bake oven

Such a thrill to be able to kill on the

staged platform that praises

your grit, wit, and spirit

But the belt won’t fit underneath

the costume that invites kicks

grabs and jabs that

border on stabs

Yet as red as the nose

that grows and shows

is the prose that blows when the

mouth is closed

Guilty for escaping a life

in order to make all else suffice

The makeup hides the fears

The lipstick covers the wasted expressers

designed to heighten joy

Cracked at the seams

are the dreams after the screams

So the show must go on

Until the lights won’t