Dick
He was a boy the circus first came to the dust of his West Texas town. And twenty later, he'd spent twenty years as Jocko the Sad Circus Clown. He did slap-stick gags in grease paint and and the people would laugh 'til they cried. But they never saw past the painted clown mask to the sad, empty man inside.
The trapeze lady easy and gracefully, high in the high trapeze swing. Her parents flyers. The circus was her life. The carny was deep in her veins. High in the spotlights in sequins and pink tights, she flew like a in the wind. The saw dust's on daughter, the strong men who caught her all that she brought to her tent.
Jocko worked down with the center ring clowns with a sad smile on his face And the trapeze swung easy and gracefully high in the great canvas space. looked up with a tear in his heart and, Lord, he wished he could fly For she never looked down at a baggy clown who looked up with love in his eyes.
It was Tulsa, the last stop, the last of the big top, a loud, sell-out crowd filled the seats. They clapped for the walk-around and cheered for the clowns. The brought them to their feet. Then a still half-lit match fell in dry grass and soon found the dry saw dust floor. The flames leaped higher. When the people heard, "Fire!" they swept like a for the door.
Jocko looked up to the top of the tent and a hundred feet the ground Swung the lady, up on the high swing, alone, with no way to get down. He ran to the ladder that led to the platform, she cried, "Jocko, no! no time!" But her quick of fear fell deaf on love's ear as slowly he started to climb.
Hand over hand to the high flier's stand, taking the rope that there one quick look down, the sad circus clown looked up and took to the air. Slow then slowly he started to swing, his turned to tears in the smoke. Faster then faster and as he swung past her, her strong hands found the rope.
She slipped to the ground as the flames the rigging and licked at the rope that he held. He'd started when the rigging let go and down to the saw dust he fell. She ran to his and with tears in her eyes, "Oh, no! Jocko, why?" she cried. He his sad head. "I loved you," he said and he closed his eyes and he died.
Now, the trapeze lady swings easy and high in the great canvass space. But a place and a are still etched in her mind of a smile painted on a sad face. And she sometimes looks down to the center ring for someone she never has found. For she still remembers the time when love came to her wearing the of a clown.