A Different Dancer

Two by two the dancers twirl:

in pretty pairs they go.

Two by two, they trace the steps

I almost think I know.

But I don’t have a partner, and

that’s not about to change;

there’s no one waiting in the wings

who doesn’t think I’m strange.

I’m always just a step behind

when I am asked to dance,

but if I take a spin alone,

they look at me askance.

I guess I’d like to be in love,

to dance for all to see;

but tangoing takes more than one

and I have only me.

And so I dance a different dance

to music they don’t hear;

and if they scorn my stumbling steps

I turn a heedless ear.

I’m waltzing through my life my way

and clumsy though it is

there might be someone out there who

is stumbling through his.

Someone who does a two-step when

the music cries out ‘swing’

Someone who’ll stay in step with me

and like the way I sing.

Our hands don’t have to fit just right

I know Ill crush his toes

but if the music starts to play,

well well see how it goes.

Two by two the dancers twirl

and I am on my own,

dancing to a different beat,

content, for now, alone.