He escaped from the circus,
shark-eyed, white-gloved.
His nose redder than Eve's Apple,
his face whiter than the white of Death.
...
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Umm, good idea, but you dont pull it off. I mean you are such a mug. Sorry but its true
After, a cloud of bliss passing through us, and then, utter, utter emancipation. nice to keep on life with reality
Ballerina, I've always had a fear of clowns... but I like your poem! ! Brian
wow, you are a real ballerina.