The Tears of a Clown

By Bud Koenemund

For Robin Williams

It seems those blessed in creativity
Are oft’ tortured as well by depression;
Demons who whisper so persuasively;
Tempting them e’er closer to destruction.
Though approbation may stave off despair,
It can grow strong, creeping in the shadows
Of the mind, while all remain unaware
Their well-meant compliments can ring hollow.
I can’t pretend to understand your pain,
Only empathize by comparison:
We each bear our own burdens; many chained
To fear and doubt; mocked by imperfection.
   O Captain! though words will pale ‘gainst sorrow;
   Despite tears, I’ll rise to seize tomorrow.