The ballerina

          As i sit in this box with its hollowed out walls,

          listening to silence echo Down the halls.

          Time standing still, holding back death.

          the lies that have trapped me catch on my breath.

           I see a face in the mirror that is not mine, 

           laughing for no reason, or rhyme.

           With hands shaking and breath quaking,

           while the plastic ballerina is awakning. 

            And may the poetry be wrong,

            her laughter melting into song.

            I feel I've been dancing all along, 

           inside of prison holding me strong.