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Dance Sad Poems | Sad Poems About Dance

These Dance Sad poems are examples of Sad poems about Dance. These are the best examples of Dance Sad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Narrative |

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


Details | Pantoum |

Dance Steps

As I sing a long forgotten song warm memories flood my soul my walk becomes dance steps you are my partner once again warm memories flood my soul twirling faster I search for you you are my partner once again a first dance for the rest of our lives warm memories flood my soul my walk becomes dance steps twirling faster I search for you as I sing a long forgotten song By Rhonda Johnson-Saunders Third Place in Brian Strand's Twelve max Any Form/Any Theme


Details | Carpe Diem |

Pricked

Your  love pricks me like a rose each thorn grows but no one knows Your so full of 
it as it shows so carry on now go on, go. I'm fed up with the phony and  i'm 
through with the tears, you couldn't pay me all your money to make up for those 
years. Someone help me I feel faint how could I think he was such a saint and 
worst of all I let me fall into a spiral down below. A magic called love carried 
by the dove of someone I use to know.


Details | Free verse |

Masquerade

You saunter through the double doors
Head held high
Chest puffed out
Putting on airs
You think you’re so clever, so deceiving
Showing up baring the most ornate mask
But I see right through
The mask that you wear tonight
You think it will conceal
You think just tonight
In this hour
You can be somebody else
But you’re dancing with the Belle of the Ball
This is MY Masquerade
And this is the 147th event
You just don’t recognize me
Because I wear a different mask each time
Your mask is cheap material
Sequins missing, feathers askew 
Such feeble attempts
I smell your bravado
Putrid and reeking, stinking up the air
But I see right through
I’ve donned masks my whole life
That’s why I am the bearer of this sash
That you see around my neck 
“Strongest Person I Know”
But I allow no one to gaze under the mask
Sure I play the Belle oh so well
But if you all saw beneath
Saw WHY I’ve had to wear masks
You’d strip me of my title
You’d rip off my sash
Break the pearls from my neck
You’d run for the door tonight
Quicker than Cinderella at the stroke of midnight
That’s the beauty of a Masquerade
You can pretend to be something you’re not
When one guise becomes worn
When it loses its sparkle
It’s glamour and charm
That first catches your eye
Well it’s quite alright 
Because I have a treasure trove 
BURSTING with masks
Grab another and keep dancing
Twirling the night away
Never skipping a beat
But when the music finally comes to an end
When the door closes and the final guest departs
Empty wine glasses are seen scattered all around
The only sound is the echo of my heels
When the confetti lies lifeless on the floor
That’s when I remove my mask
Exhausted, worn and weary
When I gladly, almost desperately 
Take off my tattered sash 
And throw it beneath my feet
Because I’m not resilient and strong now
I feel weak, frail and reclusive in my realm
That’s when the tears start to brim
That’s when I wish someone else held the title
So stripped and naked
Alone to clean up the mess
Everyone else has left behind
But there’s no one to there to pick up the sash
Just me and the sound of my tears
Echoing as they hit the floor
Almost fearfully I pick up the sash
Dust off the confetti
Smooth out the wrinkles
Before placing it back around my neck
As I throw my shoulders back
Standing taller than ever
Wiping away tears that no one saw
I walk back to my trunk
My trunk of the most decorative
Ornate, obscuring masks
Finding another to wear
As I prepare for the next façade
The next Masquerade 


Details | Couplet |

Go Go Girl

Pretty girl dancing on stage with an edge.
Hiding softness with cold eyes that look dead.

Costumes and glitter a mans fantasy.
Not the person she thought one day she'd be.

Daddy's little girl that was yesterday.
Today she's Lost in the rolls that she plays.

She looks in the eyes of the men as they stare.
Dancing and giarating swinging her hair.

Feeling the beat as she moves to the song.
Trying to believe she's doing nothing wrong.

Hoots and hollers they say take it all off.
Dirty old man at the front with a cough.

Dancing for money she has bigger dreams.
At home all alone her tears fall in streams.

A few more months maybe another year
Yet look at these girls that are still dancing here

Lies so convincing one day they will stop
Pouring out dreams never reaching the top


 


Details | I do not know? |

The Dance Of Poverty

The Dance Of PovertyThe dance of poverty woe,
(Oh the cold);
the dance that sorrow knows
and throws
...at each and every one us.

We starve, we pain, we weep
we reify the woes we keep.

Within our chest, which beats-
lies a forgotten heart that bleeds,
to the rhythm of the broken drum
of abandonment.

Beat the drum, kick it, tell it "it is worthless"
and forget it. 
The drum will lie there in the streets regardless;
abandoned for the world to see.

It is the tragic tale of system abuse 
and abandonment.

It is a dance eternal;

It is a forbidden ritual;

It is a tale of life and death;

It is poverty...

now forget it.


Details | Dizain |

Dance Upon Your Grave

The day that you die I will dance upon your grave
And shed myself from the shackles of your shame
I would put you there myself, if only I were brave
Knowing now that your monster can’t be tamed
For your demons, I no longer could be blamed

Your death would turn me loose
Set me free from your abuse
And I would dance like I was a little girl
From around my neck I’d cut the noose -
If only they’d remove you from my world


by, Joe Flach for nette onclaud's "Let's Dance" contest


Details | Free verse |

Dancing with Despair

I have danced while music played,
and smiled, although despairingly,
through tears at smiles not meant for me.
My soft eyes, though brown and drab,
have strived to glitter, with scant success,
as others shone bright, emitting light
beneath their lashes, lush and long.
While I lurched in crazy drunken spirals,
others, precise, performed their pirouettes
and slid across the polished floor
and smiled and laughed and more:
completely at their ease.
What terminal disease decrees
despair my partner in this dance?
Is there no chance to sit the music out,
a listener, discrete, devout?
While others whirl and dip, I slide and slip.
Must I be a half-a-pair with stumbling feet,
inept novice, graceless lout who, led about,
never has an easy air dancing with despair?


Details | Narrative |

Scars

.The survivors. Yes, that's what we call ourselves. We've lived through the terrors of life. 
Gentle hands, soft spoken, safe in his arms. Obey, and listen, and the swirling melody of 
love plays throughout the scene. And yet, this masquerade is always broken to reveal the 
truth. Words sharper than daggers explode around our ears. Bruises appear on our skin. 
We've "fallen", the clumsy females we are. We fell. A sports injury, a car crash, a freak 
accident. Freak accident of hatred. Much like the lion, quiet and stalking, and then exploding 
into a flurry of the hunt. Of the hurt. Swift blows, and blood drips from noses, tears stream 
from eyes in a silver river of desperate please, bruises decorate us in tawnys and majestic 
purples. Reminders of our "wrong doings". We need to pay for our sins. The only witness are 
the walls, and the moonbeams that dance about our dizzy heads. On the ground. Steel toes 
to the back. A crack. Fire. Pain. And then, a cool silence. The rage subsides, and apologies 
appear. "I'll never do it again" and "I lost control" replay in the back of our heads. Our deja-
vu from the previous night. Always the same. Always the pain. The survivors. Thats what we 
call ourselves. And by the dark dance of the moon against the velvet sky, as stars twinkle 
like sequins, and fade into the dawn, we pick ourselves up. New excuses. New plates to buy. 
A new alarm clock. New knives, doors, but no new hearts, stabbed until the hemmoragging 
hurts like a firestorm. Alone. We are alone. We, the Survivors, have lived not an apocalypse, 
not a plane crash, but the darkest part of our lives. Therapy can lock it away, but never 
remove the dark stain of dried blood upon our souls. Lost. We come together, and escape. 
We start anew, but are never the same. Dark dreams, paranoia haunting our shadows, and 
the jumps that come with shattered glass of the clink of dishes. Never the same, but 
stronger. What doesn't kill you is sure to leave a horrible scar, but wounds heal And while 
scars remain as a reminder of the pain endured, we are, for the better, stronger. We 
survived.

.


Details | Rhyme |

Your Vanity

Misery weighs down your eyes, as you begin to read.
In this dance of lies, you'll forever lead.
If you can't stand, I'll see you on the other side.
Take my hand, for now the son has died.
I'll reach under the skin, and steal away your disease.
I'll fight and win, as Death becomes a tease.
I fell into fantasy, as I feel your touch.
Swallow your vanity, for you cry too much.
The string of white lights, a full moon casting.
The shadowed nights, are never lasting.
Forever wandering, these cold dark seas.
The world squandering, crying the harshest pleas.
The voiceless won't rest, as they continue squalling.
On this endless quest, I continue falling.
Fall children, dance with every death boy and girl.
The monster will fight again, yet we're all so coy.
Lets fall to our knees, and begin to pray.
Do they hear my pleas, down together we'll lay.
Unrelenting omnipotence, nuturing malevolence.
Angels and Demons, bow before the other.
The unknowing sons, begin to kill their brother.
Leave for me, the crumbling headstones.
Ignore and leave me be, for death has shown.
Leave me to sleep, in this desecrated sanctuary.
In these dreams I weep, yet I tarry.
Will you be my love, will we watch the world burn?
What are the thoughts of, for the dead forever yearn.
No I don't want to die, no not tonight.
I can no longer try, I don't want to fall into the light.
As I climb the stairs, I reach toward the stars.
The heart tears, as it feels the scars.
I begin my ivy climbing, for the voiceless call.
It's the matter of timing, for who will begin their fall?


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