Team you

Team you
steps up. 
Roll call the squad! 
Well you're the leader, 
in command.
Your secondhands 
takes point so much 
the rest of you's confused 

oh where you stand, sometimes.

Oh roles 
are clear as balls 
of crystal, showing future's warp 
and weft in dim 
lit clarity

you find the best ways forth
you'll get!

As admiration shines,
as critic kicks and cuts,
grand self-Inquisitor hat on. 
And fond devotion has its pull, 
to make your inner fool 
stand sure you've won,
or that you will soon win.
In any event, your rational side 
keeps switching sides 

in quick and nimble 
limber game of musical 
stadium seats, as you 

team you 

collides, cheers on
and taunts (inside)  
and contemplates. 

And part of you sure hates 
this game.
The rest of you is sure it's great,
and anyway 

you have a good bit more 
than all it takes.