The Dance...
The Dance...
She arches her back and wails at the sky,
the tears rain down and the laughter dies.
Back from depression and on to sorrow;
her dance to love,
her race to tomorrow.
She picks her way through diligent steps.
In several beds she has never slept.
The ring of the taps,
the pain of the slaps
for mistakes she has made.
She takes her pain.
Erase her name.
Dance is what she lives for.
She’ll wail at the sky,
dance till she dies,
cry till they pick her from the floor.
Life is a step,
love is a trip.
Dance when there is nothing to dance for.
Cry out your pain,
play all the games.
Fame is a whXXe.
Try as you may to stay far away,
sooner or later you suffer.
Twirl and spin,
sooner or later you’ll win.
Nothing will be tougher.
So arch your back and cry.
Just wail at the sky.
Scream your confession of sin.
Dance to the light,
forget all your fright.
Just let the dance in...
Copyright © Evets Pordlaw | Year Posted 2009
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