The Perpetual Dancer

Frozen in time,

Made only to be observed.

Pasty white and porcelain

Some might believe me to be dead.

I think I used to dance,

Judging by how I stand.

But that had to be long ago,

And further than my memory can travel.

I smile at passersby while I stand on guard.

But barely do they ever look my way.

Although, there was a day they saw me,

When I fell from my wooden perch.

They took me to a table,

And ran off to find the means of fixing my broken body.

While I waited,

I noticed something new.

Where I stood to guard the wall of words,

I never wondered if there was someone on the other side.

I assumed I was the only one.

But sure enough, this is untrue.

He’s dancing just like me

He looks similar but not the same,

With gleaming black shoes and lovely blue suit

I knew he was a prince.

I wonder if he saw me too.

He was searching for someone with open arms.

I think about him often,

And now I know I danced.

Because he was dancing with me.

Many years ago,

Much further,

Than my memory can travel.