Wobbly Clowns
Old men.
Silver crowned flowers.
Shriveled crimson bloated noses.
Bow legged little clowns...
Gait beaten down by time.
Storm battered greying bows.
Sprinkling life with wisdoms' eye.
The joy and sorrow they've spread.
A million times they've laughed and bled.
Yet they battle on and on and on.
To kiss a pair of tiny hands again.
Old men.
Copyright © Anthony Biaanco | Year Posted 2016
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