THIS CIRCUS HAS NEVER REALLY WORKED, HAS IT?
She never wanted to be in this circus,
Yet, here she is, a bareback rider.
Others riding her to despair, to tragedy
Always waiting in the wings.
Wake up, folks! Look what’s happening.
He never wanted to be a trapeze artiste,
Yet, here he is, leaping from one hand to another.
Knowing he’s going to miss.
Knowing he’ll fall and crack his head wide open.
These clowns!
Forever tumbling over, forever falling down,
Getting up again problematic
When you’re already tagged a failure.
Oh, get a grip.
Trailing clouds of glory?
Well, our glory was long gone
By the time we hit the spotlight.
Only storm clouds and bad weather
Showed up for us.
This circus operates in the dark,
Performers lit only by a flash of light,
To count lost years by,
To add up lost chances,
To see the end of a sharp needle.
This circus needs closing down,
Then no-one can ever get back in,
Not even with a ticket.
© 2019 Gwen Grant
Poems by Gwen Grant 