Circus Stays
What is it that keeps me pinned
While holding back the rain and wind
Thick ropes tethering tent to earth
Pulled straight, my tugging tarpaulin
What is it that keeps me tame
Performing every show the same
Dressed and dazzling under lights
My wild then shoved back in its cage
What is it that keeps me trapped
My face made up, my body wrapped
Twisting tumbling towards the ground
Feigning my faith that ropes don’t snap
What is it that keeps me on
Directing rings, attention drawn
Calling out their names and games
But pulling stakes before the dawn
What is it that brings us back
And keeps us traveling down this track
From one tiny town to next?
The prickled flesh during the act
-a.r.
Painting: The Circus by Georges Seurat
Inspired by someone, and started, a year ago. It didn’t work then so I let it lay dormant.
It came back today and asked for life…today I had it to give.
sometimesihatemycat 
‘Roll up, roll up … ladeez an’ gennlemann: the Circusss of KARMAAAH; you cannot walk away, we appear in any town you travel to’
this is such a neat poem, like a small stripey tent
I am so glad you get it. I wasn’t sure of the quirkiness would come through. I am glad it did. Your comparison of the poem to a circus tent makes me smile. Thank you.