The Gulf

Engulfed in the diabolic how are we to breathe

How are we to ascertain the things we can believe

In rollercoaster motion we are cast upon an ocean

and set adrift to navigate a jumble of emotions.

Circuses and bread, the world is off its head

The clowns have taken over and have put the truth to bed

The slackened rope is dangling, the bearded lady wed

The sawdust has been pissed upon, the donkeys have been fed. 

Confusion grows amidst the mist of spoken lies

The circus ring is splattered with the mess of custard pies

The air is thick, the foreground slick, the sound of worried sighs

As audiences look for bread a sense of solace dies.

Circuses and bread, the world is off its head

The clowns have taken over and the donkeys have been fed. 

The slackened rope is dangling, no matter what is said

The sawdust has been pissed upon, I think its time for bed.


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