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O, strange and tiresome clown, the fool that you are,
you arrive not knowing where your feet have placed you.
Herald of giggles with concluding roar,
you stand now as arbiter of our turmoil.
What is it that you have declared for us?
With saccharine wit and bubblegum skin,
you share a message too sweet to stomach.
Your myriad eyes see a future rich
with joy and hope and strength undreamt.
Am I to believe this demon in my ear?
This thing which paints itself in rainbows
yet casts not one hue upon my silver mirror?
Its hollow form contorts around my breath
as I paint its hues upon myself.
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