When people ask if I play any sports,
I correctly and politely respond, “I dance”.
It seems as though they’re in a trance
And time after time, not letting me down
They answer “dance isn’t a sport”
So I firmly take my stance.
See dance isn’t just twirling around on a stage
Or pointing your toes and turning your feet out.
It isn’t just smiling with a bun in your hair
We train hard in the studio, day in and day out
Covered in sweat as our feet beat about
We push until the bottoms of our shoes are wore can’t take another pirouette
Until there is no more capacity for our muscles to stretch
To you it may seem as though I simply put on a tutu
And jump around like 2 year-olds do
In reality I do what few
Have the guts to even attempt
I have the responsibility, the audacity
To make one’s dreams a reality
To generate a touching story
All while smiling and making it look easy
A piece of cake they say
You don’t have to do anything, they say
It’s all just a gilded façade masking nothing.
And I promptly respond
Have you seen our toes
Or felt our sore muscles
Seen our hopes of a perfect performance dissolve into a Facebook video.
I entrust my body weight into the hands
Of the minutest bone in my foot.
Dancers train like athletes, walk like athletes, breath athleticism.
But wait “dance still isn’t a sport”
The definition of a sport does not specify
A necessity for a ball or allotted set of time
It even happens to defy
The commonplace stances on spectator sports
Football players may crash together
And volleyball players be the perfect setter
But there’s one thing you’re missing
See a football weights only 14 ounces
A catch, 6 points it announces
Yet sometimes one can’t even fathom the thought
Of touching the smallest pig skin covered spot
See us dancers throw hundred pound women in the air
If you don’t catch one, your err ends in stares and bewares
You may see me as a dancer,
But dancing requires a much more dumbed-down answer
I’m an Olympian, a dream catcher,
A champion
Or maybe just a prancer.
I stand tall, knowing the honor I have
Dancing in loving memory
Or portraying a sight to see.
I may be a dancer, but in my head I’m a DANCER
And that’s good enough for me.
YOU ARE READING
The DANCER
PoetryHere's just a poem explaining the true life of a dancer. I would greatly appreciate feedback, cause I'm pretty new to this kind of thing.