Dancer slows her frantic pace

In pain and desperation

Aching limbs and downcast face

Glow with perspiration,

Stiff as a wire

Her lungs on fire with

Just the briefest pause;

 

She’s flooded with her memories

The echoes of old applause

She limps across the floor

To close the bedroom door,

Empty of desire

No more hurdles or trials

She’s possible to ignore;

 

Dancer can no longer create

More pain signals annihilation,

All forgotten victory’s taste

No one’s still fascinated,

Stiff as she’s dying

Her heart can’t deny it

She is no longer young

Her feet are no longer wild.

 

 

 

All Rights Reserved © 2016 John J Vinacci

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