The Tightrope Walker

The Tightrope Walker A heart of spun gold, a smile ever-bright, She danced on the tightrope, a people-pleaser's plight. A circle of friends, a loyal embrace, But whispers of shadows, a changing of pace. Possessive at times, a grip gently held, Knowing the boundaries, a story seldom spelled. Her friends, like bright comets, with orbits astray, Drawn to darker constellations, far, far away. Bad attitudes bloomed, like weeds in the sun, Their laughter, their choices, a battle half-won. She watched them drift onward, a tide pulling strong, Their influences weaving, where did she go wrong? But a fire ignited, a spark in her soul, The tightrope snapped, taking its toll. No longer she'd chase, a phantom's embrace, She'd stand on firm ground, find her rightful place. Let them go, she decided, let the currents flow free, Those who truly cherish, will always stay with me. For a heart strong and steady, is worth more than gold, A circle redefined, a story untold.