A Washed Up Clown

No one likes a clown these days,

No one wants to let me in...

My face is painted bright and pretty.

​Blue and yellow is my grin.

My mouth and eyes are always smiling,

yet the children hide from me.

My arms are always stretched, inviting.

So, why won’t they play with me?

​They say my face is ghostly pale,

my nose is like a spot of blood.

My row of teeth can cause a scare,

my body’s shape is like a spud.

But I think they’re off their rockers!

All of them! The wretched scum...

Clowns are funny! ​Don’t they know?

Embodiments of endless fun!

​​No one likes a clown these days...

They won’t even try....

If only they could see

that I’m really a nice guy!

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I wrote this poem originally because I was experimenting with horror poetry. I don’t know how horrific it really is, but it’s creepy at least. I know SO many people who have a terror of clowns, so I thought it would be apt for this challenge.