Odile

Lights up.

Out of the corner of her eye,

She sees the other dancers in the wings.

Before her is a black mass called

Audience.

Above are the stage lights,

All dim but one.

It focuses on her as she leaps and turns.

It shows her grace and elegance,

But also magnifies her flaws.

People think her world is easy,

That anyone can do it.

But, in reality,

Theirs is a world so barbaric and competitive

That only a select few

Survive.

The hours are long and hard,

She goes through a pair of shoes a week.

Her feet bleed and her muscles ache.

But none of that matters

On stage.

To the audience, she is beautiful.

To them, she is everything.

But no matter how hard she tries,

She can't escape her mocking

Reflection.

Despite all those hours of practice,

All the years of training,

Her reflection in the mirror still haunts her.

To the audience, she is perfect.

But to herself, she is nothing.

Lights down.

Reviews

[Viki Rachel]

"A black mass called Audience" Gosh, I love that line. I don't know what it's called when writers do that, refer to nouns in such a way, but I always love it.
And I just noticed how in the beginning it was "Lights up", then at the end "Lights down". Tying it all together very well.

[Rose of Gondor]

My favorite character from Swan Lake is Odile, the black swan, because the person who dances it needs so much skill, and the character of Odile is so mysterious and beautiful at the same time. The dancer has to dance it with ethereal grace.

This poem is deep, and it is so very true. Well done, once again, ConjuringCat