The Dance

A long held secret, a hidden desire shrouded as best as I can from,

The relentless scrutiny of harridan’s who chase me no matter what I do.

Burning inside questions best left unanswered, floundering I face,

A realisation maybe dreams were never destined to become true.

So I jump to the dance take part in a masquerade, what else is,

There to do but to dance and to laugh with the girl in the tartan skirt.

With a smile on her lips parted to suggest the promise of an embrace,

For a night I can lie back and watch as she erases the hurt.

A lifetime spent as a man weighed down burdened from the outset,

By a reputation built upon an upbringing littered with mistakes.

The kiss for tomorrow always a prelude to the dance in the dark,

Where lovers collide and fight with each other for what they can take.

Repetition is a pattern played over and over without pause or respite,

Choices are forfeit as the game gathers pace and you find you can not hide.

The smell of their perfume lingers different but always the same,

As you look at the girl, another face on the pillow, asleep by your side.

Longing for someone to break the monotony of the endless dance,

Without a hope of a place you will ever call your home.

Love you believed an illusion created an antidote to the dance,

But with no dance there’s no love and without love aren’t we all alone?