Circus paint

Many a time spent chasing behind, smile painted on
There under false pretences not sure
If I’m going to be found out anytime soon,
Driven away for not being who I allude to
Never the sparkly, witty one
Rather the one who watches from a quiet corner
As the circus unfolds…
Who shall I be tonight?
Dancing rock star whirling about the room
Or a wallflower clinging to the bar there,  like a life raft?
Circus paint on,  costume on? Check
Hair,  heels, personality all in order
Still unsure if I’m in the wrong fairytale,
And how soon can I escape it all….
It’s all started to bore now you see
Daily adventures have become monotonous
Looking at faces flushed red, dull eyes
Comprehending nothing other than a drink
Which is blotting up the spilled ink of their daily story
That they have no way to escape from.

©AilsaCawley Poetry 2015


Author: ailsacawley

I have written since I can remember. First inspired by the wonderful stories of Roald Dahl, the Brothers Grimm etc. I adore myths and magic of all sorts, though I read so many genres it's impossible to classify it all!! Some of my poetry is truth with a healthy (or unhealthy depending on your view!),dose of magic and fiction and others are pure fiction. I'll leave you to decide for yourself which those are! Please stop by and enjoy and glad to make your acquaintance. Feel free to leave a comment 🙂

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