Among the city streets,
You will find them:
Clowns and jesters that march through
The day-to-day.
They are lost
But they always know where they are.
We can't see beyond their masks
But they know.
They know exactly who they are.
What they are.
They are clowns
Who hide from the truth.
Their faces are painted with images
Of happiness--of what they desire.
However, behind this façade,
There is pain and loneliness.
They feel that they must hide their true selves;
They feel that they will be judged.
These people have great ambitions
But lack the conviction to achieve their dreams.
Now they stand upon the smoldering ashes of their fantasies
And try to assimilate into a culture
that they desperately wish to be a part of.
Their faces are painted with lies
And it is paint that can't be washed off.
They are jesters--
Jesters that laugh at life.
They mock the obstacles that they face
And so they fail.
Now they are the ones being laughed at
As they degrade themselves to entertain a society
That simply passes them by.
Man was meant for more than that;
He has been gifted with thought
and has the power to change the world.
It is a true shame that these jesters--
These fools, squander that gift
Every day
All over this earth.
These clowns and jesters walk among us
But they do not truly belong with us.
So what are they?
They know.
They know exactly where they are,
They are nowhere.
And they know exactly who they are--what they are.
They are nothing.
