May 22, 2009
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I walk onto the dance floor
Feeling like a star
I start to wish I hadn't eaten that third granola bar
I hear my mother shouting,
And know I won't be pouting
When I run back off the floor.

The music is our instructor,
It tells us when to go.
As long as we are keeping the beat,
None of us will slow.

My nerves are an angry ghost running towards me,
But slowly disappearing in front of the crowd.

The song comes to an end
And I run off the stage.
Our coach is awaiting us
With tears of joy running down her face.

I cannot wait to perform again
For dancing is my life
Without it, I would feel like
A part of me is missing.

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