DANCER

Life is really pure ballet,
A dance upon a stage.
We walk about on tippy toe,
A prancer in a cage.

Unseen eyes behind the lights,
Watch us and they gauge.
We pirouette and strut about,
And then we leave the stage.

Too soon our dance is over,
Our part it seems was small.
At last we take our final bow,
There is no curtain call.

Category: Life, Poetry

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