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Over The Big TopRooster crowsBecause it knowsIt’s timeGrab it all and let’s goCome one come all to the showWhere we show what we knowIn hopes that no one will knowJugglers Jesters Magicians MimesPoets tickling our tongues with rhymesPurging the past polluting the pageSeeking solace while venting rageSome dispose penning strings of proseOthers ignite with tomes that inciteSelective salesmen writing lines of threeAll smoke and mirrors so you won’t seeBut none perform without the fearNo matter how loud no one will hearAll of the thoughts tears and dreamsFloating away on weightless reamsReally such a crimeThese drive by mutings©rad081408
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