Harlequins

Ladies and gentlemen, I bid you hello!
Are you all feeling well? I really must know.
If the answer I’m about to receive is a yes
Then you’ve made my job harder; I expected no less.

For I’m here to tell you about how I feel;
What is fake and what is inescapably real.
Though don’t tell my friends; they must never know
That this person you see is put on just for show.

My friends call me Jester, and my purpose and aim
Is to provide you with mirth, much to my shame
Because let us be honest; no-one values
Puppets and toys who exist to amuse

Physically, I’m perfect! I’m so out of place
With my glasses and height and my train-track brace
Soon you’ll be clutching your sides with glee
But you’ll only see Jester, you’ll never see me

Where there are cracks in the road both great and small
You see a hold-up; I see a pratfall
And my height makes that sign-post so perfectly placed
To hit me dead-centre smack in the face

You will roll on the floor, gasping with laughter
I won’t show my pain until ages after
When I’m alone I will lick my wounds –
After all, no pain should be shown by a cartoon

So I wear my belled hat and my costume red and yellow
To get you to laugh and feel good and mellow
For if I tore off this costume which I have sewn
You would kick me and beat me, then leave me alone

So I grin and I jest and I dance on the table,
To an extent I feel physically able
And I wear my Harlequin mask with pride
So no-one can see the clownchild weeping inside.