The Tornado of Me
Knowing I cannot hold back I do not try
Flailing my arms and legs, in a prancing sort of way
I am a spinning unicorn, alive and enthusiastic.
Others might be looking, or not
I dance to my own melody; loudly and proudly.
Dance someone yells; some weird stranger.
I immediately stop dancing; their command is annoying.
Will I dance again? Yes, but not here, certainly.
I dance for no one but myself.
I run from this instigator, irritated.
Alone in my home I gyrate faster than a spastic top
Spinning and kicking like a Rockette of the fifties.
My cat and dog huddle in the corner, fearful.
They recognize this dancing maniac,
I am the tornado of me.
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