Sonet num. 2

At times I feel so abandoned, lost and down..
All the time looking at the world around me..
From my bubble, painted like an old sad clown,
And seeing things, which only white eyes can see.
White eyes and red nose, covering the face,
Hiding the emotions, hiding the one"s true self,
Running through life at maddeningly slow pace,
Adding yet another diary, to the dusty bookshelf.
Bookshelf of my memories, all written by black ink,
Memories of someone else...memories of past age.
We always want to look at life through a glass that"s pink,
Not seeing we are that clown, locked in golden cage...

"When of my age you will be," said the old clown weary and slow..
"I will be you and you will be me.." and he performed his last show.

Copyright© Finwaell, 2007-2008.

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