Tiny Dancer.

by Jen Thompson

Arms wrapped together.

They rise above her head.

Toes pointed, muscles taught,

her dress the colour of red.

She spins around effortlessly,

her routine a shattered dream.

Flaunting limbs, passionate play,

forgotten memories of a silent scream.

Her mind protects her true self.

The outside world looks on in awe.

A pretty doll, a quiet girl,

An innocent soul shattered by war.

Her smile is a permanent feature.

The shine of her hair will never fade.

She dances over jewels, over diamonds,

A mirror surrounds the place she’s been laid.

She’ll stand forever waiting,

for you to open up her world.

The music soothes, its tones embrace,

your jewellery boxed little girl.

 Open my heart dearest romancer,

Protect it for me my tiny dancer.

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