A Child of the System

(Joker)

The perspective of Arthur Fleck- with reason behind his mad.

You want a villain? Here's your guy-
A painted grin, a tilted tie.
A monster made from cracked ideals,
Who cackles at everything he feels.

They paint me mad, a joke, a jest,
But I just see the world undressed.
Beneath your rules and suits and ties,
I dance among your thin disguise.

You call it crime- I call it play,
A little chaos in your day.
Why so serious? Why pretend
That order isn't just a power play of men.

I tried the mask of normal men,
It slipped- I never wore it again.
They called me freak, they looked away-
So I became the play they play.

I tried to smile the way you do,
To fake the light, believe it's true.
But laughter slipped, and silence screamed-
So I became what no one dreamed.

A mirror cracked, a card dealt wrong,
A punchline wrapped in someone’s song.
I wear my grin like war paint now-
No crown, no throne, just make me bow.

The world’s a stage, but you’re asleep,
You lie, you steal, you hurt, you weep-
And then pretend you're civil still,
While grinding goodness through the mill.

So I just cut the brakes and smiled,
A joke let loose, the system’s child.
You flinch at me- but I’m your truth,
The rot beneath your polished tooth.

You built this world on quiet lies,
Then gasped when truth began to rise.
You called me mad, but look around-
Who's laughing now without a sound?

You think I'm mad? Then check your laws,
Your broken oaths, your holy flaws.
At least I laugh- I never fake.
I burn the world for what you make.

For in your fear, I find my place-
A clown adorned with your disgrace.
And if I burn, then so will you-
Let’s watch the ash rewrite the view.

So cry for peace, go build your mask-
I’ll be the only one to ask:
When all your painted dreams fall through...
What, after all, is left to lose?

You made me. You forget that part.
Your system sewed this broken heart.
You cast your poor, your sick aside-
Then mocked the ones who dared to cry.

I didn’t crawl in from the dark-
I was born beneath your blinking spark-
A product of your mad, mad world
That looks so beautiful, woven from hurt.
Not born in madness, nor in myth-
I am the child you raised in it.

So when it crumbles, when it’s through-
Don’t look surprised,
The joke’s on you.