he threw it on everyday
before entering the stage
It was a simple character
he was trying to portray.
It was a man 
with a permanent smile, 
painted on in brilliant gold.
A man loud of voice
whose words seemed to never end.
A man light of heart
with no poison in it's cracks.
or perhaps no crack at all...
A man shallow 
with no meaning 
focusing on 
hair dye and jokes. 
A man living, 
He looked into the mirror 
'Remember, ' 
he whispers to himself
'what it was like to be alive.'
He played his role so well, no one ever would have guessed
a corpse lay beneath
his costume.                
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
 
                    