Jerry the clown

This is a story,
Of Jerry the clown,
In the midst of solitude,
He knew not how to frown.

Jerry and his pretty mask,
With a big painted smile,
In the midst of clapping hands,
Jerry would slip on a tile.

Hiding in the corner dark,
Pop he would on the fence,
The frightful laugh of little ones,
Was enough recompense.

Stronger was he than you and me,
For he could take any fall,
And get right back on his feet,
Smiling high and tall.

When all rolled with laughter loud,
Jerry would triumphantly smile,
And just as sudden as he had come,
He would vanish in a while.

The aura of laughter left behind,
His spectators bathed in joy,
But none did see the face behind,
Masked tears of Jerry boy.

But Jerry was not just a circus act,
He was seen elsewhere too,
When pain does enshroud a lonely soul,
Jerry would often blow through.

Leaving a trail of lightened hearts,
Jerry would take his leave,
The clown with a smiling mask.
A fairy tale he does weave.