Guess Who

Left ear to the pillow, arms crossed, eyes shut
the court jest lay down to sleep
I wait and watch,
a spectator to his vexed dreams.

I can never see his face well, but 
I like to imagine 
a look of trepidation; 
he fears those who know his despair.

He had settled down in his uniform
this silly old clown; 
he’d forgotten to remove his paint 
his charade becomes his reality.

His rhymes and musings 
are a fiendish response and a cruel reaping 
to and of my hard won happiness,
his red nose a mockery.


His jokes his shenanigans his
goofing ridiculous manners 
are all pleas;
petitions to affirm his meditations.

He sat up from slumber, reached beneath his bed.
He removed the cork from his old friend
and consumed his shame-warm brew
mulling thoughts of The End.

This is the third time I’ve seen 
his inclination to self destruction 
and it captivates me;
drown me too.

That very night I had a dream
of myself in a cage; naked
I dance for the court
he is the King. 

As I came to consciousness
one truth rang certain:

I am his best jest yet,
the fool in love with a clown

https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5fg1jq/seasonal/daka67l/ comment 1 https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/5fgig1/homesick/daka234/ comment 2