I like to climb a few treads-
Along side by your side.
We climb up untill
The last tread or three.

From then on,
I refuse to climb,
And you have to continue –
Your ladder-climb without me.

On top of the social ladder,
The overvieuw must be nice.
But I’m not willing to stand there with you,
As I know what must be paid as its price.

High on the social ladder,
People get it ‘High in their head.’
Pretending to be something arrogant,
Something that was never them.

But then they are on top of the ladder,
And then downwards they will go.
Not in property, style, or in prestige.
They will fall, and they fall hard – as being something mean.

Morals and manners, alongside our journey
To the very top,
They showed them over and over.
They were respected beings with ambition.

But then they’re there,
Finally there, rich and well-respected
It’s what they deserved, but then-
The curse off all important people befalls them.

I don’t like that, it’s not my style.
I love to learn to climb – for a while.
But being on a throne, bragging about-
‘How good I am.’ And not acting out on it – anymore.

That’s not my thing, that’s not my style.
Just let me stay ‘Good ol’ Maai.’
And just let me wonder- about status-hunters.
Just let me sit and settle on a comfortable tread-
below the top,

And let me keep on-
overthinging and wondering about why.
When people have reached to become powerfull-
They fall, they have pretended to be stars,
But they fall - like commets out off the sky.

________

For once and for always, I’m not a pretending status-hunter, just a real, hard-working girl who came to peace with the rank she’s on. It’s not the top, it’s not in the mud down below. I feel nicely settled on my ‘tread somewehere in the middle.’