Clown of Wells

His body is outside, motionless, and still

He looks at me with those point black eyes

Whispers

while about to decorate his white-painted mouth

with a dirty cigarette

“Don’t trust my smiles”

I ask why?

He winks, covering his eyes next with shades

Putting out the flame

He burns the street

Walk towards the crowd of people

Waving and open arm hugs

Kissing babies and telling them happiness

He blew up balloons and have endless water coming from his flower

The people wore him as if he was a god

He creates miracles under people's feet and visions

Money was never shy to him nor the flashing lenses

He was covered in it, head to toe, the jewels of life

He even kissed me once or twice

-

But I know

He locks every door he enters

close shut every window as he takes out his shades

I tell him "You really should get some rest"

He never answers, just holds a hand up and grins

The crowd laughs with him as much as he did

when he practices with the mirror

He refills gallons of water into his little flower

Drowning it even,

His jokes where long

His punchlines were short, to the point

When he told stories it was like he lived them

Even though he said it was a lie

He dances at midnight, under every full moon

It was a slow waltz, holding both arms out as if he was carrying someone

His feet never made a sound, his body twists like clockwork

Always near the end, his moves become more jagged and somehow loose

Then he sleeps standing, upright, as if he was waiting for someone

-

Every show, when he bowed he did it with a unique grace

As if he was about to hit the grave

I always thought it was because he was tired

Yet he is wide awake with a bundle of energy

Always talking, moving, and seeing how he can be better

Replaying shows in the afternoon

Mocking himself on his mistakes, putting notes on every timestamp

Posing better than the one in the black mirror

Ending with sighs every time he wasn't

-

Every show he walks by me

Telling me

“They must be terrified”

I ask why again

“Because I’m not a clown, I’m a magician”

I smiled and he did to

Bring every show some sort of joy and insight

He even had a band play for him as he enters

Everyone remembers how his theme song goes

Even to his most devoted fans, they created nicknames for him

Yet stood near the glass in stores that sell his merchandise

He would grin then trace with his finger the words

"Fallen Sun"

I asked what it meant

He just shrugs and moved on telling it's not something to dwell on

He skipped into his last show on tour

He shouted this was his last trick

“TO SHOW WHAT IT FEELS TO BE FREE”

He tosses gallons and gallons of water out of his suit

He was off script and I can it was hurting him

Bottles of glass broke mid-air

Security confused of not knowing that to do

The water turned like snow

The people glowed in oos and ahs

He held his arms wide open, hearing the applause

It was odd

The snow hit the stage become an icy lake

Then it hit me, I was awake as he waltzes back and forth

People were following him, laughing and cheering on

He bowed like any other show

then fell down, slipping, breaking, and reaching out

As the spiral of blood appeared

As I run froward

As people scream in horror

As he fell broke in the lake

A flew note to my feet.

“There is no such thing as free, only bigger cages and higher prices

Live life or learn how to pay the price.“