Lord of the Dance

Lord of the Dance
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The stage and the bright lights set up so right,
ready for the performance of the night,
the ballerina dances and prances for joy,
though none would ever guess she is a boy,

the smile is wide and white though not real,
for underneath are tears it conceals,
for the strings of the puppet she must feel,
the ballerina must dance for her meal,

and dance she does turning as though a wheel
in some man's hands to undress and reveal
the secret she spins beneath her heel,
a performance to make her feel unreal,

the music the drug, the dance is the pipe,
she will not remember this dance tonight.

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10

She makes the overtures he'll want to sing;
if she is music, he paid for the song,
and pills to pop to force the esctasy
the ballerina knows he wants to come,

for this performance is not just for one,
the ballerina dances to forget
a life filled with red lipstick and regret,
and the first man to see her pirouette,

she can see him still in the dying light,
as the stage is set on a bed so white,
she will pretend this man has the same face
for in the dark, memories have no trace,

the music the drug, the dance is the pipe,
so she can forget this dance of the night.

Published 8 April, 2026

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