A rhyme about a twisted clown.
Always a smile never a frown.
His face is stained a ghostly white.
You think the crowd would be in such affright.
He dances in the center ring.
His ice cold laugh gives the crowd a chilling sting.
The crowd laughs at the clowns gruesome antics,
All of them blind to what he plans to be climatic.
None of them truly understand his twisted jokes,
They laugh to simply blend in with the rest of the folks.
His finishing act comes about with one last sneer.
He leaves the circus tent in flames from front to rear.
How funny this is, none step apart from the crowd.
They all burn to death while laughing allowed.