The Big TopA Poem by Stephen BellThe ringmaster holds up the mirror to show the crowd the smiles they all crave But he just stands there unfazed for he’s seen it all before
The acrobats fly through the air, a mystery for all that watches to behold, But if there is a safety net below then the magic soon disappears. He lifts his head up from his chest and he bellows out: ACT THREE The crowd just want to be free from the papered over cracks in the wall.
It's all they have in common; he could think of better places to be, As the contortionist bends to please anyone who'll act interested in her at all. Standing on a heavy wooden chair, weighed down by his heavy soul; He waves the crowd into the cold and turns his back on the band. He's suffered many nights over time but they're seldom ones like this, Even with his top hat and whip he feels like a broken shell of a man. Welcome to my circus it’s the show that never stops, A clown leads the pack while the jugglers they all watch. See the elephants on a soft parade, the lions in their filthy little cage, When the curtain draws go home the fun has stopped. © 2020 Stephen BellReviews
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4 Reviews Added on December 12, 2014 Last Updated on November 30, 2020 AuthorStephen BellGlasgow, United KingdomAboutHi. I'm 23 years old and my recent employment working nightshift has allowed me an opportunity to try my hand in writing. I am mainly doing this for my own amusement however I am still curious to see .. more..Writing
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