Nothing wrong with wanting it all, but sometimes it can become a little too taxing, that want, need to be the very best at everything
A drive inside of you that won’t slow down, hold off
Better safe than sorry as soon as you come to realise the need for a softer side too
Perfection, then there’s this inner suggestion to oneself proclaiming you to undoubtedly be better than the rest, whatever happens, there no way in the world you deserve to end up overlooked and overshadowed, left on the shelf of life
There will always be strife, can’t but be, it’s par for the course, think everything through at a million miles an hour and you inevitably lose that power, power put there in the first place, the kind that graced your face as soon as you were born, something of a storm in a teacup, a talented albeit troublesome pup one way or other, still the apple of your mother’s eye
A balancing act indeed, to be able to thread that needle without bombarding people, don’t forget those who pass you by while on your way to the top, because when you fall it all comes back to haunt you
Then there will always be a few looking to disown you either way, looking to have their rather jealous say in orxer to take you down, adamant on grappling with your hardened smile and turning it the wrong way round
Above all else, remain terribly grounded all along

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