Each faltering step, each fall of mine,   Makes you burst out into laughter:   Because I am the clown in the pack   Because the motley is my birthmark.     Each swing of leotards on trapezes   Sighs in comic relief in the tail of my coat:   Because the show must go on   Because the Master is watching it.     Watching it is His way   Of creating and preserving;   Watching it is your way   Of playing for a while   The game within the game;   On a spiralling ladder   Of intertwining Venn diagrams;   With no place determinate   For the clown in motley:    Because the show must go on       Note : I wrote this poem almost two decades ago.  Both the show and the clown have changed quite a bit, and they go on entertaining those concerned in their own ways.    
Cerebrate and Celebrate