Looking Up To Others Below

And as I gaze past each envious face, I start to ponder, worry, quarry. Would awe-stricken stay to applaud my grace, if they observed my whole life story? At the end of my performance, a humble soul steps to me, Yelling,"Excuse me sir, no intent to bother, but may I get your signature?" "I mean no dismay, but fortune and fame, have not pierced past my humble ordain. My signature's meaningless if my name is known, but i can offer you this, a view from the throne." I look into his eyes, confused but amused, "You've heard my stories the truth and the lies, but allow me sir, for I cannot infer, to take a step inside your shoes. Tell me sir, your greatest story, what is it that you live to do?" Blushing he speaks, and through his straight face, happiness leaks, as he increases his pace, "Amateur poet and writer am I. A simple being, a humble guy, but to say that I have never had a view from the sky, flying high, looking down with a relieving sigh, would be a flat out lie." "I solute you, sir, most simple sir. For from your words I must concur, that in a different world you would be the better man. So I ask you now, most humble sir." With a bow,"May I get your signature?"