The man who smiles

ever since I remember, I've been afraid of clowns. even as a kid who went to the circus with his grandpa, i used to secretly dread their coming. i dunno, at some level i always thought the smile on their masks hid something sinister. still do. put simply, i don't like them. Victor Alves' 'Clownhouse' has done nothing to allay my fears...anyways...

Lights explode on the insides of his eyes,

People cheer and jeer in equal measure.

Perverted enjoyment from his pathetic cries,

He is a freak he is, the man who smiles.

There's his story to tell, if someone lends an ear,

A sordid life of one who makes masses laugh.

A frustrated mind stuck neither there nor here,

He is a mess he is, the man who smiles.

All the years he'd bottled up, come tumbling out,

Darkest of secrets the world must not know.

He has hid behind the painted mask too long, no doubt,

He's on edge he is, the man who smiles.

None know where his family vanished in that night of rain,

The night the monster in him gained full control.

He is sharpening the same old knife once again,

He is awaking he is, the man who smiles.

He's calling you to him, an innocent question to ask,

You follow him, assured by the bright colors to follow,

Till he's upon you, the knife and the twisted mask,

He is alive now he is, the man who smiles.