Spangled Clown

The world whirls on

While I’m waiting in the wings

On hold, wondering when life will start

Or whether the offerings

I already enjoy are more

Than is deserved by this entitled heart

Just because there’s a play

And mine is only a bit-part

Should I not be happy

With sawdust and standing room?

Just to be part of production

Is surely its own boon

Yet that creeping dark monster

Has somehow been let out

“He’s behiiiind you!”

The excited audience shout

But my role is the clown

Written for tragic comedy

Never the heroine, the fighter

The thinker – all too lofty for me

So I watch, outside myself

As the monster begins to bite

I have on my Redshirt

To let the watchers know it’s alright

And once it’s over

I’ll take my bow with the company;

Reap my share of the glitter;

Bask in reflected glory.

But who are these players

And what are the plays?

Why am I reading the lines life writes

When they constantly dismay?

Perhaps my refusal to dream

Prevents me improving the script

I must learn to submit to my role

And find some contentment in it

Just being part of the play

Should be plenty for anyone

Let us all continue the act

For you know, the show must go on.


With thanks to H, who suggested I considered my audience and inadvertently inspired me 🙂


2 comments on “Staged

  1. Linda Kay says:

    A sad commentary from the clown. I do know some people who fear them! In any case, so many in life have to settle for what their role is in the “play”, right?

    Liked by 1 person

    • lrconsiderer says:

      They are the saddest creatures in the circus, I am quite sure – always needing to make people laugh, whatever’s going on inside.

      Yet all the roles are vital to the enjoyment of the whole, and each person has their part. And yes – in the end, life is easier if we just get on and accept our part, such as it is.



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