Dance, Written All Over Me
Graceful on my feet just as a pencil marking me.
Mistakes scattered here and there,
erased only through work and care.
Being myself drives me nearly insane,
never close enough to perfect for my ever-judging brain.
All through my journey that I know will crumble,
shattered by the words and judgments of those who mumble.
I simply want only to smile again.
You ask why I dance,
I ask why you breathe,
You simply cannot see
that dance is more than a part of me.
I did not become
who you assumed I would be,
Dance has simply become
the meaning of me.
I am a dancer, this is my dream,
I need only an answer, though not what it may seem.
I am labelled by the cruel words people speak,
no better than words meant for others who still remain weak.
To be perfect in this world I must forever try-
erase, change, edit, but never cry.
Yet still, forever through the pain,
I can escape the confines of my overworked brain.
Tomorrow is achieved through what I do today,
I continue to write my own future each and every day.
You ask why I dance,
yet the answer is clear to see.
Because simply, without dance,
I am no longer free.
Beginning, middle, and end,
Dance shows the true me,
At last, alive once again without the pretend.
Blind before but now at once I see,
someone has taken a pen,
and written dance all over me.
My life now has meaning,
for on and within,
it is written plain and clear
That dance lives inside me.
You ask why I dance,
Just listen to me,
Graceful as a pencil, writing all over me.
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