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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Relationship · #462361
Probably the most symbolic poam I've ever written, its a challenge to understand.
Dance, Ballerina



What has become of us?
We no longer pounce
but dance
our trivialities on the card.

         
So this ballerina grows weary;
"Dance ballerina dance
and do your pirouette
in rhythm with your aching heart"
She longs to break herself free
of that record and beat


Where once we played
we now drink the tea
bow and curtsy,
sugar & cream?


No, No toe-shoes
the dance is done
let down your hair,
break into a run


Let loose your cry,
refuse to succumb to valiant failure
Throw aside the spoon and fork
delve with the knife
cut aside the leaves
find the root for below
lay and pounce
wrestle and pant in exhaustion
'Till the danger of the dance
is gone
'Till the song has struck a last chord.


7-04-02
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