I’m standing on a ladder,
Looking out over the horizon.
You’re doubled over with laughter.
I wonder why…
I guess I’m just a joke to you.
Especially after you’ve taken a toke or two.
If I had spoken to you,
Would I be better?
Maybe then I would matter.
I find my way back to the ground.
Engulfed by the sound
Of your echoing laughter.
Am I just a clown to you,
Having no sound to you,
Except the pounding of my heart?
I wobble, sometimes stumble when I walk.
My equilibrium is slightly off.
Scarred smile and damaged skin,
A few scattered hairs just under my chin.
Not too tall and not too short,
But still not the sort who will ever win,
My clothes almost never fit right.
What a sight I must be.
But I’m still loveable… huggable…capable,
I am still me.
Why do I have to be like you want me to be?
A prettier, more slender,
Well put together version of me.
For now…that cannot be.
Why can’t you just love me for me?
Love who I am as well as all you see?
I guess you are content to laugh away.
As I walk away from you today.
No need to talk anymore.
For goodness sakes,
Pick yourself up off the floor.
Now I know why the clown is so sad.
Used to being ridiculed, set up, and ragged.
A clown knows just what it takes to make you smile.
A skip, a twirl, a wink, a nod.
All things squirrelly, messy and wild.
I am not a clown you see.
Please…please stop laughing at me.
I’m a person with feelings and presence of mind.
I’m intelligent, fun, a friend for all times.
I’m eccentric, eclectic, a lover of wine,
Good listener, good sista, good lover sometimes.
Clearly that is not enough for you.
You keep on laughing and gasping as you do.
Entertaining your whims, I no longer care.
Utter another word if you dare.
I managed to cut all ties to you.
And finally bid this fine adieu.