Flying DancersA Poem by Not here
Look at all the flying dancers,
twirling their pretty lights. Though I call, nobody answers, as they twirl night by night. Singing songs and loudly ringing, hear the dancers through the crowd. Nobody listens, but they're singing, sometimes maybe twice as loud. Life seems full of second chances, but all I get are sideways glances. In the rain, nobody dances. In the dark, the lion prances. Quietly, we sing a song. Dancers slowly dance along. We all laugh and then we cry. Sing to us your lullaby. Please, sing to us the lullaby. Watch us now, the crawling nightmares, looking for a resting place. As we enter, everyone stares, then they turn and hide their face. Everything seems to be spinning. All I want is some content. But I have never been winning, and darkness does not relent. Life seems full of misplaced chances, but all I get are scornful glances. In the rain, everyone dances. In the dark, the lion prances. Quietly, we sing a song. Dancers sway swiftly along. We all cry and laugh the same, so sing to us and start the game. Yes, sing to us. Give us a name. Swiftly, softly, the pace quickens, as the plot forever thickens and I hear somebody crying. "It will be okay," I'm lying. Honesty is honestly the last thing on my mind. You see, sometimes it's better just to lie and sing to them a lullaby and try to hold them as they cry and show them where to run and why and teach them songs so they can dance while all the lions always prance. Life is full of unused chances, second thoughts, and hateful glances. In the dark, everyone dances. In the sun, no lion prances. Quietly, we sing a song, until the sound is drowned by the throng. We all laugh and cry the same. We all laugh and die the same. We all laugh, sing, die the same. Look at all the flying dancers, twirling their pretty lights. Though I call, nobody answers, as they twirl night by night. Let us twirl light by night.
© 2016 Not hereAuthor's Note
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Added on April 8, 2016Last Updated on April 8, 2016 Author
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