Alright, so for my first entry I wanted to do something special. I decided on a sonnet for all my beautiful ballerina friends out there. I'm very proud of this poem, but any feedback is welcome.
Enjoy!
Prima Ballerina
by Nathan Taylor
Her form betrays a strength that no one sees.
This pure, floodlit angel perched en pointe
whose beauty, from her fingers to her feet,
was purchased from her freedom now enjoined.
This empty stage is hers to make her own
An artist with no easel or no paint
She draws the eyes that watch her from below
and colours them with movements so restrained
Her pirouettes, so sharp, they hypnotise
while lights reflect from parts of flesh untanned
Yet in this dance, her thoughts of anguish rise
A life she's hardly lived and seldom had
A state of sweet perfection that she strives
Eludes her, and her fragile mind divides
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