Ceramic Ballerina

Ceramic ballerina

you are so fragile.

Beautiful, but tainted

there are cracks along your skin

And a wound above your heart

the paint begins to run. . . .



You try to spin and twirl

In that perfect little dress

you call “joy”

But if you may fall

You shall break

Who is there to pick up those pieces?



So instead you pout

and take up that unmotivated stance

against the wall,

Lean on it for balance-

Cross your arms

and look toward another day



Ceramic ballerina

you speak of feeling hollow

that is because you are,

just a doll

a ceramic ballerina

whose light was lost



Is there no one to wind you up to dance?

Is there no one to play the melody you love?

Ceramic ballerina,

all you must do is wait

For the cracks along your skin to heal,

And for the wound above your heart to seal