When the ballroom lights dim,
And my body strongly contorting,
Limb by limb.
But I danced, turning and twisting.
I danced till I touched the brink,
It irked me that my feet were bruised.
It looked ugly, like a stain from ink.
Then I realized my tattered shoes.
When the moment died,
I was left to twirl so I could survive.
My roses ending up dried,
And my moments ended up in the archive.
When my wishes began to wilt,
Our stage began to tilt.
YOU ARE READING
Daydream Poetry
PoetryA collection of my poems as a teen writer, I wanted to use this as somewhere where I can share my expressions and writing. The poems vary from personal poetry, to poems which I've used in competitions and poems with their own stories. I hope everyon...
