The Circus of Fear

A strange event is drawing near,
It is known all around as the Circus of Fear.
Once the sun falls, they open the gate,
All run inside where excitement awaits.

The tents, every night, they are always packed,
The grounds are filled with many an act.
Though all seems grand, this is not right,
For this is a place of, not fun, but fright.

Some must be watched carefully, like poor Mr. Smiles,
Who'll sit you down and talk a good while.
And then there's the woman with the body that bends,
A gruesome sight from beginning to end.

There is one act with many a fan,
One also known as the "funny clown man".
Delicate costumes and plenty of rings,
There's an eccentric designer surrounded by strings.

A quiet young man with surprising class,
Also commands an army of glass.
Lastly, a man who can play the game,
'Tis the Ring Master, a man of much fame.

This is a place of color and style,
Underneath, the intentions are vile.
With these acts, you'll forever have "fun,"
Because, from these acts, you can never run.