We met unsurprising in an odd stance
While not straightforward but perchance
We wore collared opinions to enhance
When speaking only moving to dance
We kept, slept, wept, and nearly murdered at first glance
Whistling the same tune, but only one can advance
We all know the outcome, still we **** for the chance
Wandering labyrinths makes the sainest call out rants
We struggle to trip, rip and grip, one by one like ants
Winner takes flesh, sence, even the last pence in our pants
We pull through fighting and leaving behind ideas of can'ts
Where we fail they succeed, when they fall we throw the lance
We echo laughing, it recedes around bouncing in a trance