Whatchamacallme: If you do not like this, then do NOT review. It is dear to me.

Dance

Will I ever be asked to a dance?

Will I want to go if I am?

Even if someone asked me,

Why would I go?

I don’t belong in Public Schools.

I don’t fit in;

I’m too strange.

Do home schoolers have a dance,

That is even remotely like a Prom?

No, I thought not.

Even if we did,

Why would I go?

The only people with whom I really fit

Are the friends I hold close.

So why am I wondering,

As I walk by those beautiful dresses,

Will I dance?

Will I ever move to the beat of music?

Besides in an arcade or wedding?

Or how about outside my home?

Am I good enough to not embarrass myself?

I know I have rhythm,

But is rhythm all you need?

Granted, you need coordination,

I have that; but is that all?

Rhythm, coordination, and music

Is that all?

The real question, however,

Is will I be asked to a dance?

Will I go to a Prom?

Will I be in college before I dance?

A greater question still,

Will anyone love me enough to ask?

Will I ever be in a relationship,

Where the man will ask me?

That is a question,

That I have no answer for.

Who would that person be?

Who will be the first?

Who will ask to dance?

Am I that unlovable?

That those I know won’t?

I have my eye on one,

But he only talks about others.

Does he hide his true emotions?

In fear that things will change?

I am afraid.

Afraid to ask.

To ask what he thinks.

For fear that things will change.

Our friendship is in a delicate balance.

It can be easily toppled,

If the wrong question were to be asked.

I’m afraid that my question is the wrong one.

It would indeed unbalance our scale.

But how did I come to this plain?

When I was wondering if I shall

Dance.

Once again, If you don't like: Don't review.