I Call Myself A Dancer

You wanted to know
What was my occupation.
And before I explained it to you
I had to share what lead to that equation

I am a dancer by trade…
But you won’t see me where you might think
My body has traveled the globe and back
In the form of a 12 foot rink

Sliding up and down a pole
Was something I thought I would never do
But to try and keep food in the household
It was a bitter pill I had to chew

You see, when I was very young
My mom made sure that I took up ballet
Pretty pirouettes on pink pointed toes
Was my favorite form of child’s play

Then the day came that daddy up and left
And our money situation got grimy
There seemed no way to keep my head up,
New ballet shoes, mommy could never buy me

A little later, she went back to work
A latch key kid is what I became..
She found a new boyfriend.. said he was “there to help”
But he took way more than he should have claimed

He introduced me to older men
Sampling me even before I got my period
No longer licking lollipops, groping hands was all I got
My tears falling to the floor by the myriads

There was no one around to protect me
So I escaped in the form of a dance
Closing my eyes to wish him away..
But I would kill him if ever given the chance…

I finally got away from that situation,
In the interim, almost losing my mind..
Moved out, but needed a means of living
I had to give dancing one more try…
I went to every prestigious establishment
In the hopes of finding a job
Doors slammed to the left and the right
I didn’t think this would be so hard

I finally happened upon a place
They took me in without second glance
A seedy institution….needless to say
But at least I was able to dance

The first time I stepped on stage
I was truly frightened by the crowd
I had to close my eyes real tight
While their lewd remarks kept growing loud

Then the thump of the music started
And I forgot my fears and swayed
Sashaying my azz across the floor
Driving businessmen in a fury enraged

I gyrated every part of my body
You would have thought I was double jointed
But I gracefully kept in time to the beat
Remembering my toes should always be pointed…

This is the way I paid the rent,
And I still had money to burn
This was every Project girl’s dream
Every waking wish that they would yearn

So you ask me again
What is it I do, and don’t be surprised by my answer
I boogie for my money and I am proud of it
And yes,….I call myself a dancer!!

Reviews

[Elana Juli Royson]

Very good write! It's a shame this is how people have to make money, but if they are happy in that lifestyle, who am I to judge? Keep writing!
~Juli

[mR668]

very interesting write. loved your flow & how you tell the story of the hows & whys, and not to judge until you have walked in the shoes of who you are judging!

[DC Gentleman]

Thats was a wonderfully told story.. You never know the tales some feet can tell. You made me care so much for this dancer. Thats talent. And you held the rhyme scheme throughout.

*** APPLAUSE ***

[Collette]

I love the way this flows! You keep a good rhythm throughout. I enjoyed seeing the other side of the coin as well...people are often so quick to judge, that they cannot fathom the story behind.