Running Away From The Circus

Running Away From The Circus

I ran away from the Circus last year -

I couldn’t stand the excitement you see.

I’d had enough of unpredictability -

From the ring-master I had to be free.

The lions and tigers kept roaring -

At night their noises kept me awake,

And the smell of droppings in the saw-dust

Was more than my nostrils could take.

The painted clowns brought me right down:

Enthusiasm I just couldn’t muster.

I started to freeze beneath the trapeze,

And sword-swallowing lost all of its lustre.

I craved a career as an accountant,

Using computers, with pinging and beeping.

It’s a real treat to work with a spread-sheet,

And rows of double-entry book-keeping.

Pencils, staplers and clean stationery

Now bring a great smile to my lips,

But better still is the enormous thrill

I get from my big pile of paper-clips.

The danger’s all gone now – that’s certainly true:

No horses or elephants to get in my way.

Now I’m frequently seen, near the coffee-machine,

Or photo-copying documents all day.

The big top now seems but a vague dream,

And to the fire-eater I owe a great debt,

But running car-hire is hardly high-wire,

And there’s no need for a safety-net.

Copyright Andy Fawthrop 2016