The Show Must Go On
I've seen a lot,
In eighteen years,
Things that would bring you to tears,
No doubt.
But I don't pout.
I don't bemoan, or groan,
About my impecable situation.
It may seem odd,
But I welcome the abrasion.
Though the memories caused dents,
There's nothing I resent.
As it buffers me against
The things that really hurt.
And even though sometimes I cry,
I'll always claim it's something,
In my eyes,
Just to seem strong, for you.
Because you look up to me,
It's the least I can do,
To look after you.
And if I must face that storm again,
For you I'd do it with a grin.
Gun blazing all the way.
I'd fight all night,
I'd fight all day.
Because the fight is never over,
And the show must go on.
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