All the fun of the circus
Comes along yearly but once
But the fun of living
Has all but disappeared
Why train a trapeze supremo
When the money’s no good
The drain on laughter is also
The leaking energy casting the mood
But never catching the right moment
The chains are weighty enough
Without the oppressive syndromes
But tears and rainy days are scythes
Through the heart, the brain, abdomen
Maybe having fun means living
The real life discovery teaching wisdom
Finding a meaning to the mass thinking
Won’t reveal the artist of a portrait
Searching for words hidden under stones
When what is needed is the building of hopes
The sun shines from a crocus
Glints on a face trails of tears
Learning to live a life on the edge
 Is like trying to balance on a sword’s blade
Difficult to stand upright
With the metal slicing into the feet.