It matters not whether I frown,
Nor lower my head in shame.
For I will always be the clown,
In your wicked game.
Even when I tread with stealth,
And deny all that you claim,
I will always be myself,
When you put me in the frame.
You may not devise my fate,
No matter how precise your aim.
I will rise above your hate.
With pride, I state my name.
Image credit: pixabay.com
In response to dVerse’s Clowning Around Prompt found here
Also loosely inspired by Emeli Sandé’s Clown.
My Fresh Pages 