Pretty Balerina

She spins,
She twirls,
She glides across that stage.
They look in awe at her,
Amazed by her poise,
By her beauty and grace.
They love her smile,
Her beautiful legs,
Her slim figure.
They spend a few hours,
Watching her perform.
Then off to their lives again,
They go,
Without another thought of her.

But she can't leave,
This is her life,
Putting on,
Perfomance after performance,
For them.
Starving herself,
For that slim body,
For that look that they love so much.
Preparing herself,
For the next performance,
Preparing to put on that face once again.

Inside her heart aches,
She hates the life she leads,
A puppet on strings.
She cries at night,
Asking why,
Why can't she be herself.
She vows to be different,
To be herself,
Tomorrow.
But that tomorrow never comes,
She wakes,
And is a puppet yet again.

She gives them her whole life,
Plays to their every wish,
And whim.
Yet when they grow tired,
They throw her away,
A tired and broken spirit.
Find another,
A new Pretty Balerina,
To pick up where she left off,
And end up the same.