Walking the Tightrope.

Welcome to the circus…

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I decided to join the circus

Because it seemed like it would be fun.

The people were said to be magic;

The atmosphere was a loaded gun.

“I’m running away to the circus!”

I told both my parents with a grin.

They warned me to be oh so careful,

And make it back home to them again.

I wanted to learn how to juggle,

To walk a tight-rope and breathe fire.

I was lusting for an adventure;

Of magic I would never tire.

I never expected the falling,

The bruises, and the burns on my face.

I should have known right then and there

That the circus was not a safe place.

But the Ring-master was so charming,

And the old lions gave me no fright,

So I practiced walking the tight-rope,

Despite my growing fear of the height.

Confidence was like a second skin,

That I wore every time I’d rehearse.

Though what I did was nothing special,

There were certainly acts that were worse.

Time came for the circus to open;

I held my breath along with the crowd.

The glitter of the lights was too bright,

The cacophony of noise too loud.

My friends told me I shouldn’t go on,

And I should have heard their warning bell,

But I still went out on that tight-rope,

And I fell, and I fell, and I fell.

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