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Cirque Publisher's Summary

A boy looked in a window, to see a naughty show  

Through the pane of pain, the master clown did blow  

The circus is a holy tent, the keeper of my rhyme  

Where I forged my chains, creating this pantomime  

Pretending to be normal, I wait until after dark  

Then I paint the frown on, get a whore from the park  

At the bottom of that bed was a darling in a chest  

She watched with big eyes, horror hooking her from rest  

She dances for the maniac, twirling on her strings  

I will make her mine, sharing damaged things 

I will be her riddle, she will help me grin  

So why does she run away, she has to let me in 

 No one loves the clown, not even the midget  

We’ve gone too far, she will know my secret  

Love can break the hardest mask, I know this to be true  

Nightmares have hearts too, I only needed you

©2016, 2017 Ashleigh Giannoccaro (P)2020 Ashleigh Giannoccaro
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