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Poem: Buffoon


laughingstock of life
lingering too long
in-spite of cruel strife
and all that is wrong
with this day to day
japing and jawing
morality play
hear the crows cawing
mocking my dreaming
with murderous zeal
in their mad screaming
broken glockenspiel
chiming the count down
shrill cacophony
my nervous breakdown
spilling around me
all of the laughter
that is the matter
all of their laughter
up to the rafter
all of the laughter
to the hereafter
all of their laughter
going and flowing
no sign of slowing
pointing and showing
all clearly knowing
that I am the fool
I alone am.

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4 responses

  1. this poem describes some of my waking moments, it seems ! (thanx ~)

    Liked by 1 person

    1. There are indeed some days that have that annoying laugh-track …

      Like

  2. A bit how I imagine Boris Johnson’s autobiography will read.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Do you really? I think his will be shorter. 🙂

      Liked by 1 person

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