Forsaken

A ballerina stands, tall before the bar
destined to rise a shining star
she tightens her grip, determined to be
strength, elegance, magnificent to see
with a powerful spring she leaps to her toes
poised on the edge of becoming a rose
her breath tightly drawn her figure is stone
perfectly held, though not on her own
the Master examines her efforts with care
and knows that her brilliance will never bloom there
It will not be easy, she'll surely object
when the bar is removed, though not in neglect
Silence ensues as He watches her rise
from her fallen position and look to the skies
"What have I done to deserve this?" She asks
frightened, alone, repulsed by the task
She waits, and listens, but hears no reply
and thoughts of rejection now mix with the "Why?"
anger soon follows in flaming succession
at her own debilitation and pitiful recession
again she prepares to ascend greater heights
determined to know how to stand for the lights
Over, and over, and over she tries
to pick herself up and mend the ties
just as her courage is starting to wane
the practice pays off, no effort is shamed
our dancer now blossoms on center stage
a symbol of battles she only could wage
finally, finally, the answer is given
with the realization that it was not hidden
in order to balance and be who you are
it's imperative you learn to let go of the bar