The Clown the Fool and Me

Many nights I've sat typing things for which none will ever read. Burning midnight oil only to add to this mornings trash. Then going about the act of pretending it's all good. Wearing a mask of my own creation. These long nights of endless confession to empty wall's. Hollow thoughts from a bitter heart to scared to exist as himself. The page lay beaten only to be erased. the circus of life is a deception for after the show when the dust settles the magic gives way to truth. Tempers flare and thoose happy clowns appear to be just angry ordinary people who hate and loath there so called friends. Dream that it would have all been diffrent if not for this or that. never taking blame just putting it on others like normal so called adults. These long nights breed anger and that page takes the punishment and like a coward I look apon this act of pure thoughtless work. And second guess myself wishing only for the approval of people who yearn only for the approval of some one else. Like hamster in a wheel never getting anywhere. For who wants to be themself when you can be a watered down version of someone who wasnt good to start with. I cant say the comforts of being a clone wouldnt be nice . But I never did like things that were nice. Never cared about being on a list or kissing someone's rearend just to have them talk about me as soon as my back was turned. Be yourself and cherish thoose who hate for the bitter and cruel amount to nothing and there only hope is to lure you down there same dead end life. The clown tries in vain to make you laugh. The fool doenst know or care if you laugh. And me Im just the jerk adding to the mornings trash empty as the page that sit's befor him.