Circus Of This Life
© Surazeus
2016 01 21
When John joins his best friend Bill at the bar
he slaps his back and asks how well he fares,
and with bitter resignation Bill smirks,
then shakes his head as he quaffs pint of beer.
"I am a clown in the circus of this life.
I drive to work on the highway of lost souls
and work all day in the office of despair
then drive home to silence with my bitter wife."
John leans forward, gazing into his eyes,
and tries to kiss him, but Bill jumps away,
knocking over his beer, then strides outside
to walk nowhere under stars sharp as ice.
"My wife hates me and my best friend is gay
and my boss gives me too much work to do
and my father was flat broke when he died
and my son ignores me with snarky sneers."
Pushing through grimy door into dark bar,
Bill slouches on a stool and orders beer,
then turns to watch the comedian on stage
who cracks lewd jokes about women and gays.
"This crazy world is so full of vile hate,
sizzling with electric buzz of despair,
that searing pain rams needles in my brain,
so I feel my rotting soul will explode."
Slamming shut door of his red pickup truck,
Bill cranks rock and roll on the radio,
then loads his rifle and cruises the streets,
gliding slow with streams of bright metal cars.
"This great nation where I was born and raised
now teems with criminals and atheists
who hate Jesus and deny God exists,
so I should kill them all to cleanse our land."
Spotting crowd of teenagers at the park,
Bill aims rifle and pulls the trigger tight,
delighting in the vicious snapping pops
as bullets splatter bodies with his pride.
"The good Lord God in heaven appoints me
as righteous angel of merciful death,
and commissions me to cleanse our great nation
of filthy scum like you, so burn in hell!"
Bill laughs as he fires bullets at their heads
then races down the street, honking horn loud,
as they vanish into shadows of fear,
then hunts again for atheists to kill.
Sirens wail as nine police cars appear,
aiming beams of light and guns at his face,
but when they demand that he drop his gun
Bill guns engine and races down the road.
Wailing loud like demons escaped from hell,
police chase him down the crowded highway,
and he screams that he is angel of death
as his truck skids sideways into the wall.
Screaming in agony as hot flames burn
his writhing body, Bill tries to escape
and aims rifle at shadows in gold light,
so they shoot blaze of bullets at his heart.
Stumbling in horror, Bill falls on his back,
and twirls around and around in vast sky
of black nothing, and stares into deep void
of blinding pain at the white light of truth.
"My pain dissolves and melts away like snow
in spring sunlight that gleams through apple trees
when Tammy first lured me to her backyard
and we kissed in the twilight of sweet love."
Police secure the scene while medics bear
his burned corpse away in the ambulance
and flames of his car are doused to black smoke
while journalists record his tragic fate.
Sitting alone in quaint suburban home,
John watches story on the evening news,
and wipes tears from his cheeks as he drinks beer,
then turns the television off and stares.
"You are a clown in the circus of this life.
We are all clowns as we seek to fulfill
desires of our hearts for friendship and love,
but some of us wander lost in the dark."
© Surazeus
2016 01 21
When John joins his best friend Bill at the bar
he slaps his back and asks how well he fares,
and with bitter resignation Bill smirks,
then shakes his head as he quaffs pint of beer.
"I am a clown in the circus of this life.
I drive to work on the highway of lost souls
and work all day in the office of despair
then drive home to silence with my bitter wife."
John leans forward, gazing into his eyes,
and tries to kiss him, but Bill jumps away,
knocking over his beer, then strides outside
to walk nowhere under stars sharp as ice.
"My wife hates me and my best friend is gay
and my boss gives me too much work to do
and my father was flat broke when he died
and my son ignores me with snarky sneers."
Pushing through grimy door into dark bar,
Bill slouches on a stool and orders beer,
then turns to watch the comedian on stage
who cracks lewd jokes about women and gays.
"This crazy world is so full of vile hate,
sizzling with electric buzz of despair,
that searing pain rams needles in my brain,
so I feel my rotting soul will explode."
Slamming shut door of his red pickup truck,
Bill cranks rock and roll on the radio,
then loads his rifle and cruises the streets,
gliding slow with streams of bright metal cars.
"This great nation where I was born and raised
now teems with criminals and atheists
who hate Jesus and deny God exists,
so I should kill them all to cleanse our land."
Spotting crowd of teenagers at the park,
Bill aims rifle and pulls the trigger tight,
delighting in the vicious snapping pops
as bullets splatter bodies with his pride.
"The good Lord God in heaven appoints me
as righteous angel of merciful death,
and commissions me to cleanse our great nation
of filthy scum like you, so burn in hell!"
Bill laughs as he fires bullets at their heads
then races down the street, honking horn loud,
as they vanish into shadows of fear,
then hunts again for atheists to kill.
Sirens wail as nine police cars appear,
aiming beams of light and guns at his face,
but when they demand that he drop his gun
Bill guns engine and races down the road.
Wailing loud like demons escaped from hell,
police chase him down the crowded highway,
and he screams that he is angel of death
as his truck skids sideways into the wall.
Screaming in agony as hot flames burn
his writhing body, Bill tries to escape
and aims rifle at shadows in gold light,
so they shoot blaze of bullets at his heart.
Stumbling in horror, Bill falls on his back,
and twirls around and around in vast sky
of black nothing, and stares into deep void
of blinding pain at the white light of truth.
"My pain dissolves and melts away like snow
in spring sunlight that gleams through apple trees
when Tammy first lured me to her backyard
and we kissed in the twilight of sweet love."
Police secure the scene while medics bear
his burned corpse away in the ambulance
and flames of his car are doused to black smoke
while journalists record his tragic fate.
Sitting alone in quaint suburban home,
John watches story on the evening news,
and wipes tears from his cheeks as he drinks beer,
then turns the television off and stares.
"You are a clown in the circus of this life.
We are all clowns as we seek to fulfill
desires of our hearts for friendship and love,
but some of us wander lost in the dark."
What a tale,
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