Lonely Dancing Boy

Music blares with bass; lights are dim.
Will this night be all we’ve dreamed?

Our first dance into independence,
breaking free of childhood constraints.

Couples sway too close, hearts beating quickly.
Groups of girls in a circle, laughing, dance as one.

Boy, alone, at home in the center of the dance floor.
His body moves to a rhythm no one else hears.

Girls point and giggle; boys scoff and tease.
He is unaware, appearing lost in his dreams.

Adults shamelessly stare at the swaying oddity,
behaving no more mature than the young teens.

I watch the lonely dancing boy, admiring his strength.
I feel shame at my peers who easily scorn the meek.

Each awkward movement, brings a cruel joke,
revealing their discomfort at one able to be alone.

The injustice eats at my heart as they break the weak.
No one dances with him; much easier to crush his dreams.

Eyes divert to me as I walk to the dancing stranger.
Stare if you must, I can’t watch in silence any longer.

Flailing about, the boy doesn’t sense my approach.
I tap his shoulder, reach out my hand, smiling kindly.

“I will dance with you. You don’t have to be alone.”
Shock and confusion register on his pale face.

No sound is heard; there seems to be more light.
We stare into each others’ eyes for an eternity.

“No, thank you, Fair Lady,” he replies, “I’m not alone.”
“You’ve misunderstood; I’m dancing with the world.”

He bows elegantly and sashays beautifully away from me.
I hear his music; I am left standing, a lonely dancing girl.