My Ballerina.

Stories long ago you've told me
how you captured the hearts of many
with just movements of your body.
How does it feel to be an animator of hearts?
With just words of thought,
you've certainly animated mine.

My ballerina,
Do you miss dancing under elegant embrace?
Believe it in my heart I have!
For dance will never die in you
as you will never die in me.
You have grace for wings as you float,
dancing on a stage of dreams.
You did the impossible by moving magic
enchantment in ways I can't understand.

How does it feel to be a princess
crowned with melodic halo?
Shine like heavenly sun, sparkle like a pacific pearl?
Stellar bodies envy you as they revolve around earth
death reaches them before knowing your secret,
your eternal radiance lights all darkness in me.

You told me you were showered
with pink and white
a picture I wish I could see,
truly beauty beholding beauty.
My ballerina,
Is it too late for you to wear your pink shoes
and dance for me like I wish you would?

Dance to your heart's content
for my world - your stage,
my heart - your audience.
Ballerina Lies.
She slips into those pink shoes.
The one's that paint a picture.
Makes her dance with such grace and power,
that she can’t help but be over thrown.
Her small little body shows the battle.
Painful bruising and bloody tips of toes.
Her small body barely even a hundred pounds.
Struggling to be what every little girl dreams to be.
Perfect.
But no one knows the lies and pain behind the perfected beauty,
cause all the see is a pretty dancer,
in pretty pink shoes.
Making pretty motions.
Her graceful moves mimicking perfection,
when deep inside she's crying and outside she is smiling.
Accepted in Society as a beautiful being...
Accepted to lie perfectly.
Lies behind the dance
Lies behind the face.
Lies behind those pink shoes.
Those shoes that represent Perfection..