"Will you dance with me?" said the lonely dancer.

There was a dancer in an old hall,
Who came everyday without fail,
She elegantly sway in the silence of it all,
Her dress ever flowing like a ship in sail,

A deep yearning exuberate from each step,
Such loneliness expressed in her spin,
At times, tears dripped after each fouette,
Leaving marks on floors dusted with rosin,

On a particular evening, a man came unknowingly,
Entered her domain, strangely exploring,
Excited, the dancer rush, sliding across the floor gracefully,
But onces she caught his gaze, his expression, appalling,

One, two step forward,
The man power slid across the floor,
His face turns blue as his knees rest awkward,
Bursting out through the main door,

A realisation came as the dancer stood by,
Watching as the man ran in the rain,
At that moment, she understood why,
Forever dancing away her endless pain.

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