APPLAUSE FOR THE CLOWN
The clown blinks beneath the spotlight —
light keeps him going,
like a debt that will never be settled.
Meanwhile, the city
feeds on its own foolishness,
slowly, almost without sound.
The audience applauds.
Everyone needs a mask —
something to hide behind,
something to breathe through.
They laugh —
not at one another,
but at what they have become.
At the end of the day,
the clown removes his makeup,
as if wiping away evidence.
And everyone, quietly,
continues to believe
they are still human.
One more round of applause,
on the house —
and the world settles back
into silence.
Poetry by Maria Deyana
Written on 2026-05-15 at 18:40
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