Mimes were once sad clowns,
Clowns with drooping frowns
As the days passed they learned,
Of a world whose sorrow burned.
Struggling to bring humor,
The clowns got only gloomier
Choosing black and white,
To show the wrongs in sight.
Clothes turned colorless,
Hair without the mess
Their poor voices you see,
Needed a happier we.
So in sound they ran away,
To find their happier days.
Without a voice they restart,
Humor from a sensitive heart.
Once clown now mime,
It was damn time.
themischiefmemoirs 
I have an intense fear of clowns, but mimes are okay. Is that strange or what? As always, you make me think, remind me that I’m not alone, and often make me :D.
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Of course! It’s so obvious once you point it out. (slapping forehead)
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I love the painting and poem. Well done.
Thank you for visiting and following my blog. I am certainly happy to have you as an important part of my blogging community. Welcome!
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