The Sad Clown

[E.A Rumfield]

I feel like Pierrot
white face, mask of the dead
watching a leafless tree
full of birds flying
from branch to branch
finding each one unsatisfactory
life tends to be so, especially
while the people about me
talk about the same things
in not so different ways
I leave my body behind
and join you on a branch
my little dove
I am a hopeless dreamer
and us both just slaves in this world
please don't fly away
I find home in your gaze
I am a hawk in soul
though not in action
but everything I am I offer
it to you with clever eyes
you have been so cruel
yet all I can see
is you, my little dove

[Delta40]

I don't quite get the image of a dove being a slave to this world although your other descriptors are rather poignant.