Pondering Poems

circus clowns

Little beads running down my forehead

Trying my best to stay out of bed

Fitting in seems like a ostentatious task

And even if I wanted it I could never ask

I am like a circus clown

trying to not fall down

My foundation is crumbling through the tide

Going up, down, left, right on the ride

Even papercuts let me bleed out

trying to find out what that is about

Beauty makes me starve myself of joy

Feeling like a plastic toy

Easily broken but still lovable

Gulligible but still palpable