All honesty has died I fear,

Words jest and play with all held dear.

I bow to court and so depart,

Clowns laugh and joke and play their part.

Royalty decreed it so,

Some observe while others throw

Clubs that juggle in the air,

Miss and hit, such talent rare.

To aim and wound and laugh at all,

Cruellest gift, no gift at all.


Rather act as Pierrot,

Wailing love’s departure,

Than betray all thought and feelings so

In silent mimicked rapture.


10 thoughts on “Pierrot”

    1. Thank you. I’m glad……I think…..
      because it possibly means that…..maybe…. you also know some bastard men that don’t have the sense they were born with.

      Sorry. Did I really just say that?
      Forgot for a moment we were talking about men. And sense. My bad. ;)x


      1. 😛 You did say that and yes…I’ve known men who don’t seem to have the sense they were born with. I’m chuckling…and they have known me.


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