Everyone is a clown

"Thrown out of his home at very age empty handed,

That dwarf was even beaten up by his master.

His eyes turned red with dark circles around,

He painted himself as a flower in a pasture.

A bright hibiscus with no delightful scent,

Beautifully organised for biologically mental experiments.

Taking the pain with a lovely smile,

Suffered chisel like rogue monument.

Now, he paints himself what he really wants to be,

To hide his past what he use to take.

He makes us laugh narrating his real stories,

His wet eyes for our happy eyes' sake!

Reality is always devastating,

Stories began only if we die.

That's why they call us immortals,

All struggle stories with happy endings, is a lie!"