Dance
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Grace Marshall, Grade 9
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Poetry
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2004
The way they move across the floor The way they point their toes The way it make you feel so sad Though it never shows The way their dresses move As they twist and turn And they way they lift their head Will you ever learn
Their body is so graceful The way it moves around Its saying things all the time Though out of it comes no sound
And the way you see their eyes And how they seem to shine There’s only a minute left We’re running out of time
So as they take a bow You throw flowers to them all You wish that you were like that That you stood proud and tall.