ballerina

do not break

your pretty toes

for soldiers of tin

you are meant for

a starlit stage,

a snow birch shelf of

trinkets and sage

do not bruise

your nimble heels

for goblins of greed

you are born for

a cloudless night,

a heavenly page of

wishes and flight

do not trade

your kindle sway

for a fairytale end

these cold tin hearts

are paperweights,

a ball and chain of

lifeless fate, and

you are meant

to dance.