She was a beauty, with nimble toes,
A ballerina with poise and grace;
Slides smooth as a calm river flows,
Gliding in flurry of silk and lace,
She was the queen of the ballet shows.

Life was a ballet, plie to piqué,
She danced to the music in her veins;
No step was tough, not even the fouetté,
As she sweated through aches and pains,
Mastering chaînés, pirouette and grand jeté

She spins and soars, like a bird in flight,
Elegant swan on a crystal lake,
A rising star, with a future bright,
The ballet kingdom was hers to take,
So she ruled, till the fateful night.

A tiny lapse, a second too late,
Her new partner missed a single beat,
Pas de deux, and a spin turned to skate,
Shattered bone and stunned silence did meet,
A deadly blow dealt by cruel fate.

Unable to dance, resentment springs,
For she is a bird who cannot fly,
A fallen angel with broken wings,
Taken from her glory in the sky,
Exiled to a world where no hope sings.