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The Lost Dancer
The Lost Dancer
Twirling around.
A dip, a turn, a roll.
The music decrescendos and I find myself lost.
I am the lonely dancer trapped in a music box.
Alone, with trinkets and treasures.
I am in a dark place, too dark to see.
The noise from the outside echoes,
And I long to be out there.
On the outside,
Dancing for my own enjoyment.
I start to see a crack of light.
I dare myself to be defiant, not dance for them.
I hear the tink of the music begin.
I tell myself I will not dance.
But, I give in.
A dip, a turn, a roll.
The music crescendos,
I find myself performing once again.
"This will certify that the above work is completely original."
Allie Deaton
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