(Image by Sandy Ye)


Iā€™m a ballerina in a music box,

Living each day with a smile sewn on my face,

Mending my own plastic heart,

While standing tall,

Looking graceful, beautiful and poised.


The music that opens at the touch of your hand,

Sends me pirouetting round in circles,

The same motion,

The same direction,

The same expression.


Strength and control,

My best-hidden abilities,

Physically, emotionally,

I am fragile, yet strong,

I am contorted, yet smooth.


I see my reflection,

I feel so flawed,

Who is this girl,

I wonder,

That I have ignored,


At last, the song finishes,

But no standing ovation,

You close me in,

Darkness, stillness,

I wait for the next exhibition.

One thought on “Ballerina

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