“Clowns Don’t Cry”

Clowns don’t cry,

though we have reasons to.

Our makeup is slowly fading,

I’m afraid they may see why.

For we clowns,

we can’t show,

our tears rolling down,

into the sadness of despair.

But I can’t,

though I want so much.

That is our rule,

clowns don’t cry.

So I could just

drive to the end of the world,

and ask him face to face.

Where are my eyes?

Where am I?

Where shall I go?

When the kids are all grown up.

And my work is done.

Oh, I want to smile,

but my mouth is woven sad.

And my eyes could have cried,

but clowns don’t cry.

Clowns don’t cry.