Last Dance

I used to dance so wild and free,
Not a care in the world who was watching me.
But they laid out the steps—black prints on the floor,
And told me, that’s not how we dance anymore.

So I learned all their steps, buried the real me,
While watching the wind in the branches, wishing to be free.
Clinging to promises of a future they swore,
“All this can be yours—just dance a little more.”

But the harder I danced, the less joy I found,
All the things they said mattered—just noise dressed as sound.
Left feeling hollow, my truth a distant shore,
The puppet they made me doesn’t want to dance anymore.