The Mask of the Clown…

I walk alone,
eluding plastic laughs,

lost in the cashmere vacuum of designer scarves.

I walk alone,
wearing the mask of the clown,

flailing in the maelstrom of empty words as I mutely drown.

I walk alone,
my smiles are all fake,

ever fearful that this cocooned heart may shatter and break.

I walk alone,
so please don’t believe the words I utter,

meaningless bits of flotsam racing down this hollow street’s gutter.

I walk alone,
always on the outside, looking in,

ever vigilant that my soul may be battered right through my thickened skin.

I walk alone,
wearing my many masks of the foolish clown,

exposing my heart to the scalpel of the world as it kicks me down.

I walk alone, yes,

yet,

I refuse to surrender to the scorn of the judgemental frowns.

Yes, I walk alone!

while behind my mask,

I feel the stinging saltiness,

of,

the tears streaking down the unseen cheeks,

of this perennial clown.