“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places….” – Roald Dahl 

I’m not funny. Don’t tell me to laugh at unlikely jokes or stare at unwilling folks because: I’m not funny.  

Well, what do you want? To see me smile, unbeguile, sit and laugh, sassafras, cry and whine, holy sunshine?!!… Well, the answer is no, because: I’m not funny.  

I’m not funny because I chose to be. Pantomime born underground, reaching for sound only to be found lonely and not around because I’m… not… funny.  

Unwilling dog at my side, symbol of my ruined pride, upside down, without a frown because: I’m not funny.  

Dreams escaped, ruined by running tape, held in, tell a friend, why? because: I’m not funny.  

Clown’s remorse, going under course, I think it shall come to an end, and without a friend, because: I’m not funny.  

As the curtain draws close, I tend to hold my nose and escape by fate. I’m a clown after all;, shouldn’t I fear curtain call? No, because: I’m… not… funny.  

And here I stand, a final broken man, blinded by fear and hate. But what must I do, to further convince of you, that repeated circumstance? 

In the end, I must commend my final fate. And it is with this line, I do not feel sublime but must expressly state: I’m… NOT… funny.