The big red tent,
A prison for talent.
Forget the tricks,
Magicians are fake.
Walk on the tight rope,
A thin line above death.
Would you ride a bike,
on the side of a mountain?
The men in masks,
Juggles balls and pins,
Or anything that is in reach.
They are only a mere illusion.
Tricycles, pogo sticks, and yummy pies,
All to entertain..
Or..just to annoy.
Bending like a pretzel,
That girl in tights.
Her bones never failing.
Animals being paraded.
Trained and working like dogs.
A place of misery and playful torture,
The only highlight: Escaping.
Close the gates of Daydreamers.