As I pirouette very happily,
I run away to my lost dreams. I find
my voice is shaped by motion rhythmically.
Through dance expression is precisely timed.
My feet on pointe ignite with energy,
shoulders are anchored back in a straight line,
tight buns on heads held high, long legs free,
and confidence is something that's divine.
Leaping high something's not right, my movement
dulled I cannot fly. Screaming from inside.
texture missing from my life. Words fluent
start to collide. I've finally lost my pride.
Reaching my physical ability,
motivation to dance is left empty.