The Forgotten Ballet

A stuttering rhythm

A broken pointe shoe

The last notes of a music box

A bodice with a broken strap

Netted skirts, all ripped into pieces

Dust and rosin cover everything

The lights around the mirror flicker on and off again

An open lipstick crumbles

A dried rose starts to mold

These are the remnants Of the Forgotten Ballet

They echo and cry

They beg to be free

It’s long been abandoned

The Forgotten Ballet

The End

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