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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

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Posted

Silence hangs as the curtain rises,

Breath sounds loud like a thousand surprises,

Rosin flies in clouds on the air,

Sticks to the silver and white that you wear.

 

Hours of practice, of blood and of pain,

Three pairs of shoes, broken and stained,

New ones now to grace that dark floor,

Pray you can make it through once more.

 

A chilling waiting, the lights flood the stage,

Far brighter than the normal studio gauge,

Noiseless murmurs to the left and the right,

And all around the still glow of white.

 

The music begins and you think that you know,

First raise your arm and then point your toe,

But next note and you are no longer the boss,

The music has got you and you are lost.

 

No more a clumsy girl in tutu and shoes,

No more hiding behind makeup and jewels,

Wings sprout from shoulders and upwards you soar,

Smitten by the tune's grasping lure.

 

No longer ugly-- you're beautiful,

No longer foolish-- you're masterful,

At least until the end of the dance,

So let yourself stay in this beautiful trance.

 

Others disdain you and laugh in your face,

They say you lack skill and you lack grace,

But toss up your head and remember it's true:

You don't dance for them. You dance for you.

Posted

Silence hangs as the curtain rises,

Breath sounds loud like a thousand surprises,

Rosin flies in clouds on the air,

Sticks to the silver and white that you wear.

 

Hours of practice, of blood and of pain,

Three pairs of shoes, broken and stained,

New ones now to grace that dark floor,

Pray you can make it through once more.

 

A chilling waiting, the lights flood the stage,

Far brighter than the normal studio gauge,

Noiseless murmurs to the left and the right,

And all around the still glow of white.

 

The music begins and you think that you know,

First raise your arm and then point your toe,

But next note and you are no longer the boss,

The music has got you and you are lost.

 

No more a clumsy girl in tutu and shoes,

No more hiding behind makeup and jewels,

Wings sprout from shoulders and upwards you soar,

Smitten by the tune's grasping lure.

 

No longer ugly-- you're beautiful,

No longer foolish-- you're masterful,

At least until the end of the dance,

So let yourself stay in this beautiful trance.

 

Others disdain you and laugh in your face,

They say you lack skill and you lack grace,

But toss up your head and remember it's true:

You don't dance for them. You dance for you.

normally i don't like forced rhymes, which seem to dominate your poetry, but this poem stands out among the rest -- it's lovely, really.

it captures a feeling and carries it, and the reader -- the enraptured audience -- can't help but be swept along.

the name, however, doesn't seem to fit?

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