The Bleeding Jester

Once upon a time

             That is what I say as the world breaks down around me

There was a king and a court, and one particular jester.

The Jester was the best, and truly loved her King

             I smirk at that trying not to snarl as another boy claims he loves me.

The Jester danced to keep everyone happy.

              Remembering this part, I wonder why I’m not a sappy love-sick fool.

And danced, even if Jester was sick, sad, or felt the world was cruel.

              And the world is cruel, my mother always loves to show me.

The King was in danger, And the court told him to run.

          Like the man who claimed that he was my father, but had to run when he did                     wrong.

But the King, confident in his court said he would not leave them behind.

Ah~ Another person I knew has left their phone number behind, but why did they lie and  say that they would call me back? Isn’t a clean split much better?

So the Jester decied to protect her King, even if it cost the Jester her life

Because really how much worth is my life anyhow? Little children are sold five dollars a job now.

So the day came where the Jester died. Oddly the day Jester left everyone behind, no one cried.

But no one would cry would they? I had to look myself in the mirror to convince myself the lie was “yes” and not “no”.

For the Jester you see had taken the wound for the King, to the heart a knife.

Shiny sharp things attract me too much but I know that there are much more easier ways to make yourself bleed, and less noticeable too.

And the Jester, to keep everyone calm. Danced and danced until she fell down dead. All of them laughing as the blood pooled on the floor.

                Is there any relief to my pain? No one will like me if I ever express it.

                I guess I will die alone behind this mask then.

The King, to say thanks made a statue of the Jester.

Bleeding with the blade in her heart and the pale white smilely face mask covering the tears tracks of her life. The Court was pleased and called the statue, Bleeding Jester.

Please, please…. Can anyone see me behind this smiling mask? Won’t anyone see me behind the cracked smiling mask? Please I beg of you. Please…

And that is the end of the tale in my head.

                 As I sigh and pick up the pieces of a broken world, so it can break again.