I walk along a tightrope above a deep cravass
My mental state is jaded and I often think it crass
You often strike the wire to make me stop and tremble
I steady my nerves with liquid courage to make me lithe and nimble

As I balance the pole to assist me in my crossing
You wave to distract often without thinking of my being
The journey is to cross over and back and return with a prize
Has succombed to only wanting to reach safety in my panic stricken eyes

With forthought of my duties and needs of preservation
I deteminedly press onward for honour and family dedication
No prize is worth winning should it end in my imminent demise
My mind is now focused to do what I am able without tradgedy or surprise

Focused on my goal and not the objects of your fascination
I press onward to simply cross to the other side with anticipation
Slidding soft toed leather shoes and moving at my own true pace
I slowly get beyond your reach with my own goals and challenges to face

As I approach the other side you still shout above the crowd
The prize gradually grows irrelevant as your desires I've disallowed
You'll soon learn to achieve your own precious prizes and agendas
I've finally reached solace and you'll have to get your own damn club sodas