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literature
Circus on the Sly
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Literature Text
There was a freak show
in the playground
That featured you as the Emcee
there was a poster
on the pavement
That broke your hold over me
And I shall be the bearded lady
In your open warfare play
You shall be the dashing hero
that flies in
and saves the day
And we shall mourn the other circus
That does not centre on us
the spot light can become too bright
Just like everything else does
And soon our pachydermal game
will end in a m a s s i v e fight
unlike our other circus friends
we're not suited to this life
And when the seclusion
becomes to much
for any clown
to bear
I'll paint the crosses on your face
and you'll paint a lonely tear
The magic shattered and the animals
s c a t t e r e d
When the crowd saw us act in the playground
We we're shaped like puppets
in a no-strings cupboard
This Always Open Circus
Closed down.
And I always knew you'd run away
when the charade came to an end
I will be the fat lady
And I'll never sing again
And when the audience left our tent
and there was no one
to impress
The poodle and the tutu
were all that we had
left.
in the playground
That featured you as the Emcee
there was a poster
on the pavement
That broke your hold over me
And I shall be the bearded lady
In your open warfare play
You shall be the dashing hero
that flies in
and saves the day
And we shall mourn the other circus
That does not centre on us
the spot light can become too bright
Just like everything else does
And soon our pachydermal game
will end in a m a s s i v e fight
unlike our other circus friends
we're not suited to this life
And when the seclusion
becomes to much
for any clown
to bear
I'll paint the crosses on your face
and you'll paint a lonely tear
The magic shattered and the animals
s c a t t e r e d
When the crowd saw us act in the playground
We we're shaped like puppets
in a no-strings cupboard
This Always Open Circus
Closed down.
And I always knew you'd run away
when the charade came to an end
I will be the fat lady
And I'll never sing again
And when the audience left our tent
and there was no one
to impress
The poodle and the tutu
were all that we had
left.
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Its really strange and sort of, physcotic but where I live is surrounded by mountains, so it sort of feels like a private playground. Theres this camel and its baby down the road, A giant statue of a red elephant a little futher into the valley, and this place that has two giant containers that read, "moscow circus".
Everyone that lives in this valley, has these strange structures on their properties that appear to have no base in practicality, its like what would you use a triangle shaped teepee for that appears to be made out of, old cars. Its just really other world carnival. I wish other people saw it the way I do but alas, to others its just barren dry flat dust. Thats the sort of thing that this poem came out of, that and my interactions with people of varying shapes and sizes. Other wordly types. Revolutionaries of a sorts. Its also sort of, connecting with that soul factor, couples fights, tifs, the unwanted crush. Its someone you like, someone you used to like. Its highschool love, its public love, everyone watching. All eyes on you. Its like public performance of truth. That basket of apples.
"I have a girlfreind, we wanna get married, but we soo young"
*I deviated this, then deleted it and edited it more. I have not finished with this poem but I have finished with it for the moment.
Everyone that lives in this valley, has these strange structures on their properties that appear to have no base in practicality, its like what would you use a triangle shaped teepee for that appears to be made out of, old cars. Its just really other world carnival. I wish other people saw it the way I do but alas, to others its just barren dry flat dust. Thats the sort of thing that this poem came out of, that and my interactions with people of varying shapes and sizes. Other wordly types. Revolutionaries of a sorts. Its also sort of, connecting with that soul factor, couples fights, tifs, the unwanted crush. Its someone you like, someone you used to like. Its highschool love, its public love, everyone watching. All eyes on you. Its like public performance of truth. That basket of apples.
"I have a girlfreind, we wanna get married, but we soo young"
*I deviated this, then deleted it and edited it more. I have not finished with this poem but I have finished with it for the moment.
© 2006 - 2024 KillMeHarder
Comments24
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Am I the only one who thought Sister Location? Or is my mind just that corrupted..? This is beautiful btw <3