In our big-top world, some consider themselves ringmasters.
Because to them, you’re a joke they want to poke with a stick as they flick a switch so you fall through the floor, a door that welcomes your final laugh or what they call a gaffe. If you let them, they’ll watch you botch the act, which they think is a pact since they sold tickets. However, you’re a danger because you’re a stranger who never plays sidekick to anyone. A threat, I’m willing to bet, since they sit on a throne—alone.
When they want you to struggle, just juggle—like a clown, dancing and prancing as the orbs fly high in the sky. And just wait because your smile, in a while, will cause their crown to become a frown. It will pull them down to the ground, a soul chained to the pain of a shallow life.
Don’t subject yourself to a ringmaster: be a clown for the world.
© 2017 Joe Blend. All rights reserved.