Clowns make me Angry.

[jeanmermaid]

do not think you can cut me to my core,
while frolicking in orchards-
consuming and ravaging every
tasty tart fruit, who out stretches
their limbs in an acrobatic sway
toward sunshine from above.

it is not love that develops,
but a darkness that envelopes-
coldly while the sun is expected to show
at your beckoning call.

temptations are cheaply adorned,
as simple moments are fleeting-
it is best to remember there is
plenty of calm, before the storm.