Suppose I oughta be going now.
Where? Oh, you know … just out.
Seems that the new little girl
don’t like clowns, said I was
scary. Suppose I was made to
cheer kids up, light the dark.
Suppose if I ain’t doing my job,
I’m just a bum—so I belong
out under the sky somewhere,
all broken up, still smiling
like a dumb old fool, maybe.

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Today’s Poem a Day Chapbook Challenge prompt was to write a persona poem.