A cry for help

I know how you see me, but despite all, please help me.

When you see me,

Right across the street,

You don't think 'what a beauty',

or 'how lovely and free'.

Most probably,

you regard me with sadness,

often unconsciously,

and untactfully.

I feel like a clown,

the punchline of a joke,

so close to a meltdown, 

fading into smoke.

I need some a advice,

helpful but concise,

some kind words,

to guide me like a flock of birds.

So, if you would be some kind,

to give me a piece of your mind, 

a penny for you thoughts,

so my sadness can be fought.