He tried to make me feel bad by calling me a clown.
I thought about it while we were talking, wondering if it was true.
It stung for a second because maybe he was right that i was.
Maybe that was who i was, maybe everyone agreed.
Maybe it was time to go. Leave the microphone.
Is it because i do my elvis impressions, the penguin poems, is it the jokes was it because i dressed up like a pirate once, it was just once.
I started to laugh at myself. I laughed good. I felt better, I felt good. It was healing.
I like laughing,
I love to hear it from others, it is the gift i try to give. it is medicine for our times.
There are worse things to be than a clown.