Clown

I sat next to a clown on a bus one night
because no one else would do.
He looked so alien sitting alone
on a seat that was built for two.

His face was powdered a ghostly white,
his hair was green and blue.
A thick red smile swung over his mouth
and hid his sulk from view.

I watched passengers walk passed the clown,
amused by the size of his shoe.
They looked at him out the corner of their eye
and muttered a joke or two.

He looked straight ahead, without expression
as the murmur around him grew,
oblivious to the attention he brought,
although I'm sure he knew.

I thought to myself&;#8230;

'Why is it clown that when you work,
you're cherished and looked up to.
But on your way home, feeling tired and low,
we won't even smile at you.'

'And when you're a clown who's fooling around
we love to laugh at you.
But seeing you now as a fool in the crowd
it's something we try not to do.'

'We'd wait in line and pay a fee
for your smile sincere and true.
But since you've entered the human world,
you're a freak we look straight through.'

I sat next to a clown on a bus one night,
amused by the size of his shoe.
I saw a man inside the clown
and asked him 'how do you do?'