The biggest tragedy of my life
Was the day my mother enrolled me in dance classes.
She didn’t understand that I wasn’t like her.
I didn’t do ballet or jazz
I couldn’t pirouette to save my life.
Pink tutus and black tap shoes.
It wasn’t worth the money is cost.
I didn’t wanna participate
I tried to explain
I’m not her.
I wasn’t made to dance.
Her talent didn’t flow through my bones
Like it did for my sister.
Not a single, leap or jump was successful.
I couldn’t get further than
3 inches from the ground.
She told me to practice
And pushed and pushed.
But I’m not her
And I’m not my sister.
A disappoint to the tradition
Passed down for generations.
And that
Is the biggest tragedy of my life.