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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