It hurts from within
When I fail to dance
Pour all that I feel
Into a jarring performance
Stretch my arms out to the skies
Point my toes to go underground
Something there is that I am looking for
That I haven’t yet found
I try and reach out
Yet, I get it all wrong
I might have to start all over
I know I have to stay strong
There is a glimmer of hope
My hard work will surely pay
Someday, everyone will watch me
While I glide across the floor and sway
Labour is blossoming or dancing where
ReplyDeleteThe body is not bruised to pleasure soul.
Nor beauty born out of its own despair,
Nor blear-eyed wisdom out of midnight oil.
O chestnut-tree, great-rooted blossomer,
Are you the leaf, the blossom or the bole?
O body swayed to music, O brightening glance,
How can we know the dancer from the dance? - W B Yeats...
I remembered this when i read it.. Nice one