Life is a dance
And I dance alone
Struggling to bring my moves to the
dance floor
So I dance at home
My melancholy spirit puts me in
constant worry
Never knowing if I should change
myself to avoid feeling empty
My hands are tied
So living in the moment is my specialty
These words will still have meaning
When I two-step past seventy
I lie to myself in the mirror
for my own enjoyment
I turn my back on the world
to deal with these voices
Because they are the true source of my inspiration
Life is a dance
And I do the tango alone
Watch me lose it all over someone
that won't even pick up the phone
-K
YOU ARE READING
Melancholy Dreams
PoetryMy poetry is an extension of myself. Every time I write, I stain the page with portions of my thoughts and emotions. Pieces of my former self lie in the stanzas. What is left is the current version of myself. This is my story, more or less.
