A spinning top
Leaping across the floor
Coming down with a flourish
No one knows she's sore
The ballerina flies
Acting without a care
Impressing the audience so greatly
All they can do is stare
in the wings of the stage
The ballerina pants
Kept going by the people
Who want to see her dance
Here is the finale
And onto the stage she will come
Walking delicately
Her legs are almost numb
The audience gasps
To see an unsightly gimp
Amazed she could dance so well
Born with a disabling limp
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Storm, That is an amazing poem! ! Did you write it for one of your friends? ? You are a great poet, keep writing! ! !