The Balancing Act

We cram them in
All sorts and types
And show them ‘sin’
Dressed up in tights

A high wire tale
Of bird and bee
The truth is veiled
For all to see

She tiptoes out
Along the line
With parasol
Come rain or shine

And does her pretty
Pantomime
To show the world
She’s doing fine

The rose she throws
To rows of seats
A thorny trick
For kids whose sweets

Still stain the hands
The cheek, the lip
That pales to see
This vision slip

As feathers flutter
To the floor
The wire dips
The girl no more

Is perched upon
Her roosting place
But safe below
And in disgrace

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