Trapeze or a trap?

For the Circus Girl.

Dainty, young girl trading in

the first grade for face paint.

She preferred the trapeze to the

monkey bars.

covered in the glow of the big lights,

she had to be one of the boys.

She shyly excited the world

she was encased in.

Her mask was nothing more than

some makeup;

her peculiar nature was nothing more than,

well, herself.

The animals of the circus spoke to her.

She could feel their energy

before each show went on.

We was a spark,

leaving normalcy for a life under

the big top.

Set ablaze on the main stage,

she pondered what school was like,

what kids would do, and where she would be otherwise.

As this thought passed, she approached the animals,

stroked one’s frame and smiled.

Finding comfort,

she approached the trapeze

as usual.

Another day at the circus.