Fighting distractions...

There's nothing like a good flight

To get my blood flowing 

And remind me that I'm still alive

As a child, this search for meaning

Was attributed to simple boredom 

And too much energy locked up inside 

But that view came from up above

From guidance and love

Hoping I wasn't just some miscreant 

Down came orders and rules

Intended to curb my fuel

Thinking I needed some discipline 

But as I rose through the ranks

And was forced to give thanks 

I created new arenas of battle

Not with hands or toys 

Did I fight other boys 

But instead with oratory paddle 

I thought it was the rush of the cage

And a hint of my rage

That brought me primal satisfaction

But truth be told

In my years, now old 

I realize it was simple human interaction

That a fight and a scuffle

Or an intellectual tussle 

Could serve as simple distraction