The Riddle of Dance

Under pressure is the only way I work.
I have a friend to help me turn.
I sit in a bag until I come to use.
I have been scuffed around about but been paid attention to,
As I approach the stage to dance for the crowd.
We place ourselves under the bright lights,
When I glide near my friend she helps me turn, twist and leap with the
music.

I skip around to the counts of eight
Then effortlessly drag myself on stage, to change my personality.
They are all in awe of me and my friend
She spins me and I spin her.
I create a canvas to a stage for her to perform on
Step by step, so weightless, nimble and soft that it sounds of
the speed of light.

To everything there is a season, and to a time there is a purpose.
Give the girl the right shoe and she can defeat the world.
So sometimes I may fall, but a life without pointed shoes would be
pointless