Chapter Nine
No.122
Right
© Copyright Reserved - United Kingdom
Ideal Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Ideal Screen Composition 1024 x 768
Author: Nigel Wilcox 10.08.25
I Am the Sad Misguided Clown
First-Person Monologue - In Response to the Sad Misguided Clown (119)
First-Person Monologue - In Response to the Sad Misguided Clown (119)
I was damaged by life
So I withdrew from it.
Then I re-entered the fray,
Took up a job, joined the strife,
And treated others as they had treated me. But they rejected me again.
Of course they did.
I became a narcissist,
Not out of pride, but sorrow.
I craved validation,
A tomorrow that would finally say:
“You’re in control now. You matter.”
I wanted to rule something—anything.
Like the old dictators,
I rewrote politics to suit my wounds.
I remembered every failure,
Every humiliation,
Every celebration I wasn’t invited to.
I began to despise my country,
My fellow men. I wanted to destroy it all...
From within.
They never elected me.
But I sold the country anyway.
I took their gifts,
Let them tarnish me.
I betrayed my marriage,
Painted it with false colours.
I welcomed enemies in ...
No Trojan soul, just open gates.
I never saw the spirits drift.
Never heard the ancestors whisper.
They died for something I could not lift.
I ignored the chosen ones,
Those lit by the sacred flame.
Even the passive became soldiers,
Ready to fight.
They are not silenced
By my policies or my stance.
Their power is greater.
They challenge.They advance.
They fight evil in the streets.
And darkness retreats.
I am a shell now.
A man taken down.
Silenced. Broken.
My puppets fall beside me...
Sad, sad clowns.
And I know:
Only repentance remains.
Only the narcissist can choose
To turn around.
So I withdrew from it.
Then I re-entered the fray,
Took up a job, joined the strife,
And treated others as they had treated me. But they rejected me again.
Of course they did.
I became a narcissist,
Not out of pride, but sorrow.
I craved validation,
A tomorrow that would finally say:
“You’re in control now. You matter.”
I wanted to rule something—anything.
Like the old dictators,
I rewrote politics to suit my wounds.
I remembered every failure,
Every humiliation,
Every celebration I wasn’t invited to.
I began to despise my country,
My fellow men. I wanted to destroy it all...
From within.
They never elected me.
But I sold the country anyway.
I took their gifts,
Let them tarnish me.
I betrayed my marriage,
Painted it with false colours.
I welcomed enemies in ...
No Trojan soul, just open gates.
I never saw the spirits drift.
Never heard the ancestors whisper.
They died for something I could not lift.
I ignored the chosen ones,
Those lit by the sacred flame.
Even the passive became soldiers,
Ready to fight.
They are not silenced
By my policies or my stance.
Their power is greater.
They challenge.They advance.
They fight evil in the streets.
And darkness retreats.
I am a shell now.
A man taken down.
Silenced. Broken.
My puppets fall beside me...
Sad, sad clowns.
And I know:
Only repentance remains.
Only the narcissist can choose
To turn around.
2-3
Chagos Islands UK Armed Forces
Farmers/Fishing Police
Pensions NHS
Winter Fuel Housing
EU Education & Students
Waspi Women Misappropriation Funding
UK Defence Personal Gifts (undeclared)
Illegal Migrants Left Woke LGBT/Gender
Free Speech Minority-support of Palistine
UK Security Over Taxation/economy