Tiny Dancer

She dances through life,
the world in her palm.
Not a care in her mind,
all thoughts on her steps,
spinning, leaping, to the invisible notes,
joined by invisible friends,
a tune heard only by those who believe.
The creative mind of a child.

They try to tie her down,
with ugly words.
diagnosis shoved down her throat every day,
trying to find something wrong in her head.
All innocence is sucked away,
away from her fun.
Condescending words, work their way through,
through to her brain,
making her doubt, second guess her moves.
Making her believe,
something is wrong with a little creativity.

The song has ended. The flame smothered.
Bound by belief, no longer she leaps.
her grasp on the world slips,
her thoughts clouded by drugs, looking for a cure,
told that a simple tune was cause for alarm,
everyday, living in fear of imagination.

Author's Note

Ummmm... so this is kind of a different piece for me, but it just popped into my head! Please comment advice, and if you like it or not. Critisism is appreciated!

Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

"Making her believe,
something is wrong with a little creativity. "
A very sad poem. It is sad we kill the imagination of children. Would be a better world if we knew old dreams and had the imagination of youth. A sad ending to a amazing poem.
Coyote

[Sadiesmiles]

Thank you!

[Tinotenda Nyevedzanai]

Great description of psychology here very visual well done!

[Prime]

Killing imagination of our child is just too much. This is sad. Great writing.

[Sadiesmiles]

Thanks!......:)...

[Lindsay G]

I really like this and holy cow PLOT TWIST!! I think you did a really good job on showing her feelings and you have a strong ending. Good job!

[Sadiesmiles]

thanks lindsay!

[Tina Louise UK]

Beautifully touching hun, really enjoyed :) x

[Sadiesmiles]

Thank you!

[Emmy]

Wow. Very touching. I really like this! I'm glad you sent that read request! This really made me stop and thing. The only mistake I saw is you left out the word to in the sentence "They try tie her down," but other than that, it's perfect! I think I'll share this one with a few friends and writers, if you don't mind. I really like it. In my mind, creativity is life. Without it your not living. We use it in so many everyday thing! Well lovely write. I hope to read more:)

[Sadiesmiles]

Thank you!

[magenta24uk]

Very sad and emotive. I love the images this strikes in me and the way my heart falls with her.

[Sadiesmiles]

Thank you! I'm glad you enjoyed it.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

has the sadness declared in the lines...
I would work on the structure of this verse...
seems to just ramble in the read...
but I believe you can rework this...
I did see a place of concern:

They try tie her down,
with ugly words.
diagnosis shoved down her throat every day,
trying to find something wrong in her head.
All innocence is sucked away,
from her fun.
---
They try to tie her down,
with ugly words.
diagnosis shoved down her throat every day,
trying to find something wrong in her head.
All innocence is sucked away,
from her fun.

but if you want to give this a notch up ---
here is a edited version of what I would do:

Version I ---

She dances through life,
the world in her palm.
Not a care in her mind,
all thoughts on her steps,
spinning, leaping, to the invisible notes,
joined by invisible friends,
a tune heard only by those who believe.
The creative mind of a child.

They try tie her down,
with ugly words.
diagnosis shoved down her throat every day,
trying to find something wrong in her head.
All innocence is sucked away,
from her fun.
Condescending words, work their way through,
through to her brain,
making her doubt, second guess her moves.
Making her believe,
something is wrong with a little creativity.

The song has ended. The flame smothered.
Bound by belief, no longer she leaps.
her grasp on the world slips,
her thoughts clouded by drugs, looking for a cure,
told that a simple tune was cause for alarm,
everyday, living in fear of imagination.

----

Version II

She dances through life, world is in her palm.
No care in her mind, all thoughts on her steps.
Spinning and leaping to invisible notes.
Joined by invisible friends.
A tune heard only by those who believe.
Creative mind is a child.

They try to tie her down with ugly words.
Diagnosis shoved down her throat every day.
Trying to find something wrong in her head.
All innocence is sucked away from her fun.
Condescending words work their way through.
Thoughts to her brain, make her doubt.
Second guess her moves making her believe.
Something is wrong with a little creativity.

Song has ended and flame smothered.
Bound by belief, no longer she leaps.
Her grasp on the world slips.
Her thoughts clouded by drugs.
Looking for is a cure,
Told a simple tune was cause for alarm.
Everyday living in fear of imagination.

Of course --- this is your verse...so you can change/edit to your liking ---
but see the way --- impact draws the reader...

[Sadiesmiles]

Thanks for the advice! I will take it into consideration.

[Glen Yumang Manese]

you're welcome...