The Joy of Dancing

This world was not meant for me

It shall never belong to me.

I belong to it.

The light performs, the bird sings

For itself.

Never manufactured for an audience

But for the joy of dancing.

Who are you?

There's a girl across the world

with a diary of words unspoken.

He said he’d be back.

He could've been something more.

It's a lot of pressure

Don't you think?

For a little girl

To never be satisfied.

Does it matter who we are?

We look at the same sky.

Perhaps none of us manufactured for an audience either

Just to dance.