Running towards the vault
Swinging on a bar
Staying on a four-inch beam
Yet, we come back for more and more

Late nights and long hours
Just to end up in last
Striving for perfection
And our own personal best

Taped up ankles
And blood gushing hands
But the commitment we made
Always overrides other plans

Feeling socially awkward
No parties, but rest
Weekends always hectic
And breaks just a mess

Practice makes perfect
Or so they say
Training hours a week
And to just fall on an “A”

But the freedom we feel
While flying through the air
And the journey that was made
Makes nothing ever a waste