Wicked

Young, little clown sitting alone.

Playing with trinkets, mostly unknown.

Mainly a menace,

Could turn you to stone,

The clown in the corner,

Watching from his throne.

Blocks and cars he throws at you.

White powdery flesh, large red lips too.

He laughs at your fear,

Covets your blight.

Don't get too near,

This clown might bite.

Friends with the shadows,

Enemies with light.

Welcomes the darkness crowding his mind.

Clown in the corner watching you.

Clown in the corner, he watches me too.

Daggers he holds above your head,

Careful at night, don't look under your bed.

If you hear a scream hasten away,

The clown is creeping you, night and day.