Slivers of Darkness: Horror Poems to Chill Your Soul

The Last Laugh

In a nearby town, there lives a clown

whose laughter fills the air,

and  in crowded places, with his painted faces

he shocks with skill and flair.

Through a comic fall, and tales grown tall,

those watching delight with glee,

to forget their worries, of bills and moneys,

as the clown performs for free.

For ten short days he had shared his ways,

from the square of that known town,

and the sisters and mothers and fathers and brothers

applauded each time he fell down.

And as waning light, gave way to night

the clown concluded his act,

with a dance and a song, and a story not long,

it was time to fulfil their contract.

For each time he sang or fell with a bang,

he'd given the people such joy.

And it was only right that they reward, in light,

of his efforts which thrilled girl and boy.

So the clown lay his hat, near where he sat,

hoping the townsfolk would show

their kindness and thanks, for all foolish pranks,

are worth more than many can know.

But as the folk passed, including the last,

few pennies fell in the hat.

And the clown looked on, with a sad little song,

knowing that that, was that.

The following day, so many say,

was the darkest the town ever knew,

for many of those who'd watched the clown's shows

had vanished, and left just a few.

In warm bedrooms where, the missing took care

to sleep and dream and be still,

there was found something strange, a sort of exchange,

for body, and mind and for will.

On each empty bed, where once rested head,

a piece of torn cloth could be seen,

the colours were rich, yet raggedly stitched,

and one prankster it could only have been

And while townsfolk grieve, without reprieve

at their loss of loved ones gone,

the clown packs his things, of tricks, jokes and strings,

and to your town, he now moves on.