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The Dancer
Graceful arms like swans
It’s like she’s dancing on air
Her dress, it flutters.
Her toes are pointed
She leaps with such elegance
And comes down softly.
Breathless, she is done
The crowd erupts with applause
For the small dancer.
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I myself am a dancer, and I appreciate the beauty and art of ballet's movements. Ballet is starting to get labeled as old-fashioned or plain weird, but I hope my poem helps people realize the elegant grace of this art form.