The Crippled Dancer
By dshoser
The Crippled Dancer There was a crippled dancer Who could not stop to rest Leapt she ever, fantasies Of endless pirouettes. The twisted boned reality Of faithlessness of flesh Demands she dance on endlessly She dare not risk to rest For dancer’s spirit, left long furled, Time surely would ensnare, And strike the twirling dancer down To a cripple in a chair. Written September 22nd, 1985 © on Sep 22 2001 02:39 PM PST 10 • 0 • 9
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"The Crippled Dancer..."