It can't be real HELL if you can still make a bowel movement and write for your devoted poemhunter earth things.
My favorite stanza:
But come the end of Showtime, when everyone goes home
The pain returns to torture him, he suffers all alone
The tears they flow they burn and etch, the make-up hides a frown
So no one knows, as no one sees, the tears of a clown
10++ for this Evocative poem!
I love this idea. My vote is with Bri.