Balance of Absurdity

At the party, they laugh as I balance a spoon,

a talent that shines like a mocking monsoon.

I grin through the chuckles, the ease of the jest,

but inside, I cringe at this talent, my best.

The hollow applause, a reminder, it seems,

that dreams don't always fit in the box of our schemes.

I wonder if laughter can soften the fall,

when I teeter on nonsense, refusing to stall.