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.