Pogo, the clown, with painted smile,
He walked the streets for a little while.
Red nose, big shoes, a rainbow bright,
He cheered the kids in the fading light.
Parties and fairs, a friendly face,
He twisted balloons all over the place.
Magic tricks and a silly song,
Made everything seem to right the wrong.
John Wayne Gacy, the man inside,
A secret darker, he tried to hide.
Beneath the makeup, a heart of stone,
A twisted soul, utterly alone.
He lured young men with promises sweet,
A chance to work, a place to meet.
But shadows lurked in the silent night,
And innocence vanished from their sight.
The buried bodies, a chilling tale,
Hidden secrets behind a false veil.
The happy clown, a cruel disguise,
Reflecting evil in his painted eyes.
The police arrived, the truth unfurled,
A monster exposed to the judging world.
The mask removed, the colors bled,
Leaving behind a landscape of dread.
The trial began, the courtroom tense,
He claimed he was mad, without defense.
But justice prevailed, the verdict clear,
The clown’s facade, consumed by fear.
He sat in his cell, his laughter gone,
The echoes of deeds that went on and on.
Pogo the clown, a name of dread,
A chilling reminder of the lives he led.
So remember the story, let it reside,
A warning against the evil that can hide.
Behind a smile, a playful jest,
Lurks the darkness that puts hearts to the test.
Pogo the clown, a tragic sign,
Of the monster that walked, in a grotesque design.
A stain on the world, a memory grim,
A chilling reminder of the evil within.