Music Box Ballerina

There’s a small black box with white roses

Hand-painted on the sides and a silver latch to open it.

The top slides open and soft,

Classical music begins to play.

In the center is a small figure.

She’s dressed in pink tights and pointe shoes.

Watch as she twirls across the stage

Of the small black box,

Keeping with the rhythm of the music.

She’s my music box ballerina

And she’ll always dance for me.

Such expression on a tiny face,

Hand-painted cherry lips with blue eyes

And blonde hair pulled back into a bun.

There are a couple strands that have escaped

And curl elegantly at the base of her neck.

She’ll always have a smile on her pretty painted face

Even if I’ve had a hard day and my make-up isn’t perfect.

Rejection is quite common in my world filled with tears,

But never do I cry.

She always dances on.