Our lives whirl around
As if in some sort of sad dance
Dim lights and soft sound
Music plays but it is a song unknown.
We weave our way between others
Stepping in and out
Our arms lifted in the expected twirl
But our eyes, cast down.
If the tempo quickens, our pace follows suit
A dull heat begins to rise
But none will stop the desperate dance
For if they do, the melody dies.
