Dancing Hall

Standing at the window I watch with amazement One dancer whips the air fiercely with her bottom Another writes something in air with pointed fingers Both seemed lost in non-existing planet of mystery Standing at the window I watch more fun and fuss Lone dancer charges like a bull as he bull-dances At a corner a wigged girl has her chin in her palms Both seemed to live in a world that loved them not Standing at the window I examine my conscience This world is a dancing hall each with hidden point Every person with a fate that dogs and bites at will A lonely creature man is in this crowded dancehall Dance and sing in the hall to express hidden point Though a public thing it’s where you do your thing