to find your wings.
Running 'round rings and
hopping through hoops
to prove you care
is only fair when
the spectators prove true; the
audience faithful to you.
Making magic for the master while
slaves sit clapping in the rafters
pretending to be all-observant.
You're a servant 'til
you make a choice:
Learn your voice or
amp the ring leaders'.
Pillar their theaters
or build your own.
Your dreams are an empty throne
and no real royal rises alone, so
shed all those who bear you down, build
courts for loyals to your crown,
kingdoms for kin ready to learn
to rule. Know as the caged tent burns, that
elephants remember all, yet
mindless mice might make them fall.
Your call is not to grow toward greed-
not to stampede on those around you-
your cue is to show you're freed,
to break loose all those who ground you.
Careful that you don't mistake who
braces you for those who drown you.
Don't forget that mob mentality
is the fatality of originality;
that most can't see how difference prospers
unless it's present in their own rosters;
that no other lion can understand the things
you must do, must lose, to gain your wings.