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A happy face that's painted on.
Though happiness is long since gone.
A smile that he's forced to don.
The clown never shows tears.
Flamboyant paint he's forced to flout.
A routine he cannot doubt.
He cannot let his demons out.
He smiles for the children.
From time to time he wonders why.
As a child he dreamed to fly.
Now he feels like he may cry.
I pity the poor man.
Solitude he will find here.
He can allow a leaking tear.
Judgment he need not fear.
This bozo on a bench.
3 minutes.
blood
__________________
Maybe the answer is in the very light reflected off our blades. Maybe that's what it means to be this creature known as samurai.
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