1st place Shadows and Light Poetry Contest Round 85
Are you laughing at me?
When tragedy befalls a fool
trying to keep cool in a class of clowns,
falling down on a banana peel,
we forget how it feels to hurt
making it all about the funny.
We see a jester, a trickster,
a hysterical pie-faced player
in a circus world of catastrophe.
I'm just trying to understand why
tears are shed to keep from crying,
why a man can wear a mocking mask
and then ask, "What's the big deal?"
If we could train our brains to feel another's pain
and not put on an insane disguise,
maybe we would be a little wiser
and inspire us to rise up,
aspire to a higher level where
man's first spasm is not to laugh,
but reach out a helping hand.