Wandering Clown Poem by Kostas Lagos
Wandering Clown
I long for that day
that the dust off my feet
I 'll shake for good
and I will become a distant memory
A foreigner I came, a foreigner I leave
a nomad all my life and loyal
to the callings of roving.
Without a stuff(thiw time)
without a sack, with nothing to hope for
with my word only I 'm going on
Ridiculus and tragic at the same time
like a circus clown
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: leaving
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8/3/2025 5:03:13 PM # 1.0.0
Earth! ! Mankind! A nomadnomad all my life! ! ! Hustle and bustle. Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
Great comment-poem! Thank you!