twirling around on her toe-tips
of the new ballet slippers, biting her lip
hands on her hips
trying not to slip

the instructor clapped her palms
1-2-3, the girl was so calm
the ballet slippers' ribbons
flew as soft as cinnamon.

until she awoke and was done
a wisp of hair fallen from her bun
a memory of that shot of the gun
how could a father do that to his own son?

in a room where she let the tears flow
oh how she felt so alone and low
for she had lost her love that day
crying and dying as she sat, they say

she lost him to the crazy man
a memory of him, squeezing her hand
the gun rang out and he fell to the land
her knees went weak and she fell into beach sand

all she had wanted to do was show him
her new ballet shoes
standing before the rim
of water new.