Seeing through pitiful eyes

Who knows what lies behind a human face? Broken clowns cover up their misery with make up powder, strange hells ghost in smiling eyes,

but, the foolish wise don’t know how to tell lies.

Programming the programmer, vending machine dictator, the dark and dread of normalised abnormality.

‘Its not to Stand naked under unknowing eyes’ the poet said. Smug faced crowds, graveyard humour at the end of pier show, where the comedian mixes vodka with Mogadon and swallows a million regrets.

Silence and Rage, the lies of backstage and then at the final curtain, screaming silence.

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