Circus Pride

I exist in the moment between dawn and dusk

 

Whispers of romance between lovers lips

 

Hands the can't touch, nor mouths that can kiss

 

An elephant suspended on a taught wire string


Crossing the room; bearing the name shame

 

All eyes follow it until the string breaks

 

I am not alone in this secret love affair – between identity and secrecy

 

There are many more akin to me, arriving at the same circus

 

Expecting to watch a show but they end up as the freaks,

 

Roped into a life beneath lock and key.

 

The media ringleaders love the strange and the weird.

 

The audience wants to watch for their normalcy to be secure:

 

We are the example for their children – everything they should never be

 

The wicked lost ones; we're God's mistakes, can't you see?

 

Dogs to be trained and mimes to be silenced

 

Clowns for laughing and clowns for crying

 

One day the circus acts will cease their play

 

One day the lions will be set loose to choose the ringmaster as prey

 

When the trampled circus tent in the wind billows wide

 

Our spirits will whisper, “We called it our pride,”

This poem is about: 
Our world

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