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Ball Room Dancing

It was a Friday night,
when stars were veiled by
dark gray wispy clouds.
The second school dance of the year.

It was rumored that the
person I loved was attending this
imaginary ball.

I waited for my friends
and him to come.

The musician played
the slow dance song
that had been requested
so kindly.

I thought to myself,
will the one I love extend his hand
to mine and ask me to dance?
Or am I the one to gently
tap his shoulder and ask him to waltz?

Fear overwhelmed
my mind,
but he did not approach me
like he did that other girl.
He did not smile at me
the way he did to the dark haired
Maiden on the other side.
They danced.


I wandered around aimlessly
in the strobe lit room,
searching for my companions
who had all ready arrived.


Another waltz
I approached him
from behind,
but did not say a word.
Nervousness had fooled
my brain,
my silly foolish
mind.
I thought, okay,
it was only one dance.
He couldn’t possibly
like her.

I slowly walked off to
join my friends.
We laughed and smiled,
and I continued in conversation
as if my heart wasn’t the
slightest hurt at all.

But you could see that
they danced together
like two stars shining
in unison brighter
than the others.














I pretended my friends
were barriers,
to heal all of my sadness,
my worry
and disappointment.
We continued to talk over the
loud, booming music.

We gossiped about
how suddenly the atmosphere
of the room changes
during a slow song.
People forget
what’s happening around them,
they break from conversation,
and they scatter
into their own pairs
joined arm in arm
and dance with each other.

And how some people,
like me,
stand at a corner and watch
or wish we could be dancing
like them.
And how some of us
even take action.




I tried to push the
ridiculous thought out of
my head.
I asked
my fair maiden friend,
Is there a song that
Your ear craves to hear?
as we gossiped.

Yes
she replied giving me
a smile.
A romantic, sweet
perhaps soft melody.
She gave no name
or artist for me to reference.
Any slow song that came to mind
would suffice for her,
and so I did kindly request
the craved song.

She too had been struck by
arrows of Cupid.
You can see it in her eyes
her longing to dance with her
prince charming

I looked over to see
her secret crush
standing in a corner
with his group of
fellow friends.






The both of us,
my friend and I
walked a bit closer
to him
as his back
faced us.

Quickly
I turned to my friend,
a nervous smile on her face,
then turned back
and tapped on the gentleman’s
shoulder.

Pardon me good sir,
I introduce you to
my good maiden friend,
who wishes to waltz with
you tonight.

He gave a small smile
at my brown eyed companion,
then walked to her
as I gave a fake,
almost unnoticeable
grin
as they joined together.

Once his arms were around her
I left in sour happiness,
wishing I too could have my
secret love’s arms around me,
glad that my companion
had acquired her happiness.

How foolish I was
to feel strong
when helping a friend
then crumble
and become shy
when helping myself.


Third and final dance of the
unfortunate evening
before the clock would strike
nine.

Surely he would come to me now,
He couldn’t possibly want to go back to the
same beauty
like he did before.

This was supposed
be my chance with
happiness.

But the person
I loved,
as if it were a spell,
walked to the same dark haired
beauty and danced
with her close to him.

My feet did not move,
they could not move.
Nor could my eyes
fix on something else
less interesting.

My hope shattered
into a million little pieces,
more than there are
stars in the sky.
I turned to glance
at my brown haired friend
thinking maybe
it would turn back time.

I felt jealous
of my friend’s luck.
How come I couldn’t dance
like she did,
or like that other girl?

Suppose time would
turn back?
I can never make
a mistake just once.
Turning back time
would be like giving me
another chance to throw away
my courage
and become disappointed again.

I was invisible,
silent like a shadow
in the night,
just standing there

motionless,
stunned,

sorrowful.

I was noticed
by the dark haired maiden
She stared at me for a moment
no longer than a split second.
Her glance told me
to shoo.

I turned away and escaped
that imaginary ball,
seeping back to reality
walking down the small hallway
into the Friday night,
when stars were veiled
by dark gray wispy
clouds.





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