No one mourns more than the ones
Who step into the vibrant circus ring,
Expecting faces and carousel lights
To recognize something never there.
No one mentioned that it was fair.
What’s lovely is lonely,
What’s dangerous is done.
They have found fame in darkness,
Where there is more
Where there is none.
Now what applause do they get?
What faces for them to keep?
What empty songs left to be sung?
Any more goodbyes? Maybe just one?
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