Trina the Ballerina was a ballet diva,

From the moment she first saw Saturday Night Fevuh.

She'd dance in her room, she'd dance in the street,

She'd dance wherever she could place her feet.

Trina the Ballerina was a tip-toe dancer,

A twirler, a spinner, a spectacular prancer.

She'd dance in the night, she's dance in the day,

She'd dance, if she could, her whole life away.

Trina the Ballerina was a star of some fame,

From all over the world, her fans, they came.

But sadly, her glory all went to her head,

"She used to be great," the critics had said.

But Trina the Ballerina would never say die,

Her passion to dance she must satisfy.

So she picked up her shoes and put them on tight,

And practiced and practiced, all through the night.

So Trina remained always the star ballerina,

Filling the seats of the biggest arena,

She danced until she turned gray and old,

And then she danced on her grave, when she was dead and cold.

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I wouldn't worry too much about the rhyming pattern and syllables, as long as it follows the nonsensical theme.

A death and a moral are optional but encouraged.

updated Aug 19 by aryst0krat