Circus...

You try to be the ringmaster,
In this wild, crazed circus of romance.

Lording, commanding over all you see,
Beneath the canopy of your big top.

Awaiting some spectacular performance,
Discontented if it is not so forthcoming.

Expecting me to play many parts over,
The somersaulting and  flexible acrobat,

To contort and distort to applause,
Balanced precariously on a high wire.

You expect me to play the clown,
To amuse and delight  with painted face.

Or be the magician and conjure up
A magic performance to astound and please.

I simply say  I am more the big cat,
And the  lion is not as  tame as you think.

You do not realise you  are the juggler,
With far too many balls in the air.

I’m just waiting for you to drop them,
And the show won’t always go on.