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The Life of a Lonely Ballet Dancer

Updated on February 18, 2014
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Too busy appealing to the masses,

Seeing the world through rose-colored glasses

Never asking for anything in return,

Such a hard lesson for her to learn.


Working her muscles until they scream,

Life of the ballet dancer is the theme,

Working so hard, can’t be replaced

Never truly loved, rarely embraced.


Show her a beautiful, yet empty world,

Give her adoration, but forget the heart of the girl.

Tell her that body and beauty matter

Forget love, that makes the career shatter.


Years of work, fortune and fame

She forgot herself, she wasn’t to blame.

She never grew up, her emotions were lost,

She wanted the life of a ballet dancer.


She mistook false adoration for love,

Smiles and nods were a lie, thereof.

When the doors were closed and she cried

Each piece of her heart slowly died.


Years do come, and decades go

She lost her soul, and nobody knows,

She kept herself within barred walls.

Her best dances she often recalls.


She gave so much until a shell was left

She felt so alone, often bereft.

And finally when true love came calling

She fought it hard, often appalling.


She knew not courtship, flirting was pain

What these things meant, was not the same.

For what she knew was emotionless and cold,

But it got her the life of silver and gold.


She feared her own necessary needs and wants,

It was easier to purchase croissants.

She pushed the perfect suitor away

Even though she hoped that this would come her way.


She feared her own feelings, never enveloped

Her childlike emotions had never developed.

When her love came calling one sunny day,

It brought her fear, for it would never stay.


All she knew was a life of structure and work.

Being sentimental and sweet was so berserk.

To her, love was adulation, fake smiles,

And standing ovations in the aisles.


© 2014 Deb Hirt

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    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 2 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      And thank YOU, Emese. It isn't hard to see what these things can do, but usually, it is too late by the time it is actually noticed. I do hope that this can help someone.

    • Emese Fromm profile image

      EmeseRéka 2 years ago from The Desert

      I just noticed this hub, and had to read it since my daughter was/is? a ballet dancer and I've seen many dancers with the same issues that you described. This poem gave words to describe this phenomena. It is so well-written, heartfelt, and rings true. I truly enjoyed it. Thank you for sharing it.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 2 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, grand old lady--it wasn't hard to see it.

    • grand old lady profile image

      Mona Sabalones Gonzalez 2 years ago from Philippines

      So much truth to this.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, Vellur. Sometimes it can be a little distorted.

    • Vellur profile image

      Nithya Venkat 3 years ago from Dubai

      It is really sad that one does not know what true love is all about. Great write.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      All they know is adoration, and can confuse it with love. Many dancers are very in-tune with their bodies and minds, and are very disciplined. However, if a young child grows up like this away from home, it could be difficult.

    • Nell Rose profile image

      Nell Rose 3 years ago from England

      This was a lovely poem Deb, and I would imagine its so true for many ballet dancers. The adoration must go to their brain sometimes, and as we saw in the film Black Swan, it totally turned her mind into madness. voted up and shared! nell

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, DDE.

    • DDE profile image

      Devika Primić 3 years ago from Dubrovnik, Croatia

      The Life of a Lonely Ballet Dancer is beautifully written

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Don't get me wrong, Peg, it doesn't happen to everyone. When a prepubescent child goes out of the country to the arms of the cold,cruel world, she loses her individuality and becomes a future moneymaker, IF SHE IS LUCKY. However, to me, it is a terrible tradeoff, as she loses who she could be.

    • PegCole17 profile image

      Peg Cole 3 years ago from Dallas, Texas

      This was heartfelt and beautifully written, Deb. I never considered the loneliness that would accompany the profession.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, Ruby. They tend to strike me once in a while.

    • Ruby H Rose profile image

      Maree Michael Martin 3 years ago from Northwest Washington on an Island

      How deep, how beautiful, how moving to feel her stretching every muscle to the perfection of the dance....Poetry, I love how you write it.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, Faith Reaper. I appreciate your vote of confidence.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Shalom, manatita.

    • Faith Reaper profile image

      Faith Reaper 3 years ago from southern USA

      Wow, oh wow!!! Deb, your poetry is amazing and heartrending no doubt, but full of truth! I was thinking of my oldest granddaughter and her becoming a ballerina as she loves dance and has the perfect frame, but reading this (sort of had this in the back of my mind too) brought me into reality.

      Thank you for sharing your gift of poetry, what a true delight in addition to your photography hubs. You are multi-gifted indeed.

      Up and more and sharing.

      Blessings,

      Faith Reaper

    • manatita44 profile image

      manatita44 3 years ago from london

      Extremely beautiful poem. Deep lessons for all. Shalom!

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      sujaya venkatesh, thanks for taking a gander...

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, Leslie. Be there shortly.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Dave, I do these once in a while, as you know, and it has a real kick to it!

    • sujaya venkatesh profile image

      sujaya venkatesh 3 years ago

      very hopeful av

    • ImKarn23 profile image

      Karen Silverman 3 years ago

      Deb...i am gob-smacked! I can very much relate to this and i am so sorry for this poor soul.

      I would like to know the backstory..

      Hope you pop over for a visit - my book is released today!

      i'm...shaky...lol

      hugs/sharingxx

    • The Examiner-1 profile image

      The Examiner-1 3 years ago

      This was different Deb, but interesting. This is so true. Without emotions you cannot have love. Concentrating on only your career means you have to avoid family life.

      Perhaps I will try poetry, everyone else is. Nah.

      Kevin

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thank you…the future holds many things...

    • Anna Haven profile image

      Anna Haven 3 years ago from Scotland

      I am struggling for time just now, but today has been free. I seen the email and I do like your poetry... so I had to look. :)

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      Thanks, Anna, glad that you got to see it.

    • Anna Haven profile image

      Anna Haven 3 years ago from Scotland

      Sad and gripping. I felt for her.

    • aviannovice profile image
      Author

      Deb Hirt 3 years ago from Stillwater, OK

      When they strike, Billy, they are powerful pieces. This took 45 minutes.

    • billybuc profile image

      Bill Holland 3 years ago from Olympia, WA

      Don't take this comment the wrong way; I love your Boomer Lake series, but when you write poetry your true soul appears. Beautiful work, Deb!

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