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Cloony the Clown
I'll tell you the story of Cloony the Clown
Who worked in a circus that came through town.
His shoes were too big and his hat was too small,
But he just wasnt, just wasnt funny at all.
He had a trombone to play loud silly tunes,
He had a green dog and a thousand balloons.
He was floppy and sloppy and skinny and tall,
but he just wasnt, just wasnt funny at all.
and every time he did a trick,
everyone felt a little sick.
and every time he told a joke,
folks sighed as if their hearts were broke.
and every time he lost a shoe,
everyone looked awfully blue.
and every time he stood on his head,
everyone screamed, "go back to bed!"
and every time he made a leap,
everybody fell asleep.
and every time he ate his tie,
everyone began to cry.
and Cloony could not make any money
simply because he was not funny.
one day he said, "ill tell this town
how it feels to be an unfunny clown."
and he told them all why he looked so sad,
and he told them all why he felt so bad.
he told of pain and rain and cold,
he told of darkness in his soul,
and after he finished his tale of woe,
did everyone cry? oh no, no, no,
they laughed until they shook the trees
with "hah hah hahs" and "hee hee hees."
they laughed with howls and yowls and shrieks,
they laughed all day, they laughed all week,
they laughed until they had a fit,
they laughed until their jackets split.
the laughter spread for miles around
to every city, every town,
over mountains, 'cross the sea,
from saint tropez to mun san nee.
and soon the whole world rang with laughter,
lasting till forever after,
while Cloony stood in the circus tent,
with his head drooped low and his shoulders bent.
and he said, "THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT-
IM FUNNY JUST BY ACCIDENT."
and while the world laughed outside,
Cloony the Clown sat down and cried.
~Shel Silverstein

  The Little Boy and The Old Man

Said the little boy, "Sometimes i drop my spoon."
said the little old man, "i do that too."
the little boy whispered, "i wet my pants."
"i do that too," laughed the little old man.
said the little boy, "i often cry."
the old man nodded, "so do i."
"but worst of all, "said the boy, "it seems
grown-ups dont pay attention to me."
and he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"i know what you mean," said the little old man.
~Shel Silverstein
  The Garden

Ol' man simon, planted a diamond,
grew hisself a garden the likes of none.
sprouts all growin, comin up glowin,
fruit of jewels all shinin in the sun.
colors of the rainbow,
see the sun and rain grow
sapphires and rubies on ivory vines,
grapes of jade, just
ripenin in the shade, just
ready for the squeezin into green jade wine.
pure gold corn there,
blowin in the warm air,
ol crow nibblin on the amnythyst seeds.
in between the diamonds, ol man simon
crawls about pullin out platinum weeds.
pink pearl berries,
all you can carry,
put em in a bushel and
haul em into town.
up in the tree theres
opal nuts and gold pears-
hurry quick, grab a stick
and shake some down.
take a silver tater,
emerald tomater,
fresh plump coral melons
hangin in reach.
ol man simon,
diggin in his diamonds,
stops and rests and dreams about
one... real... peach.
~Shel Silverstein
 

"We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother..."

~"St. Crispen's Day Speech" -Shakespeare