BOOKS
You Wrote It
You'll want to be a ballerina after reading this poem
A tiny dancer
Moves with
Grace
On pointe
Pink tutu
Arms stretched
Colors flowing
As she moves
Dancing on
Music notes
Soaring through
The air
Sparkling
Chaotic
But beautiful
Masterpiece
I shake my head
And wake up
From this dream
But the dancer
Returns to my head
POSTED IN BOOKS, You Wrote It
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