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,

Your heart.

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.


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