This is very well written and invites us into your pain and your emotion. I do have a few suggestions regarding editing (and editing, by the way, is when the poem is truly written.) See my suggestions in parenthesis below:
In the script of life’s stage, I’m the jest,
A punchline scrawled by hands unsure, distressed. (by hands, distressed – I’d remove “unsure”)
Dangling on the margins, on edges I tread,
Existence penned in a comedy where sadness is fed.
Unsteady hands sketch this bleak refrain,
My role, a punchline in life’s mocking domain. (another word for “punchline” as you’ve already used it – example – “an afterthought in life’s…)
Hanging on the precipice, teetering near, (onto the precipice…)
Each scene etched with a shadow, a tear. (with shadows and tears…)
Pages turn, yet my lines remain the same, (I’d remove, for rhythmic concerns, the words “the same”)
A tragicomedy, a soul steeped in shame.
In this tale, laughter echoes, piercing and loud,
My existence, a joke, lost in a sorrowful shroud. (not sure about “sorrowful” – it’s a clumsy word here and messes with the rhythm – and this is your ending, so you want it to be powerful, memorable. Possible other words “mournful shroud” – “blinding shroud” – “humbling shroud” – “unbearable shroud…”)
The poem is powerful and well written, as I said – and these are just suggestions – dismiss them if they don’t feel right. Thank you so much for sharing your work with me. Your friend in poetry, Susan
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