Why does there have to be something else,
Other than this?
The hoopla of the circus I missed
And why should I grow sad at the confetti
I find amid the limps of elephant dew
Proof that the circus ever was
Even if I didn’t see it.
Why do I need to see the man or woman
Making love to death on the highway
Defying it as if this is some fear
We don’t all struggle with
All of our lives?
Maybe it’s the freak show I need
Or the mirror I know is distorted
So that I can imagine that
The distorted reflection I see
Isn’t really me,
And I’m not the same freak
As the freaks I see?
I do miss the clowns
Even if their act is
Full of vicious pranks
I can laugh at freely
And not feel guilt
Maybe I simply envy those
Who got to see all I missed
Or am I the lucky one
Who remains uncrushed
By the elephants whose
Droppings I sniff
As my fingers sift through
The confetti
All this telling me life
Is always an illusion
Even for those who
Are lucky enough
To catch up with it.
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