I leaped among the statued faces.
My body dressed in poise and graces.
I dipped and spun, leaving nothing to chance,
But no one stopped to watch me dance.

I dipped my pen in a bottomless well.
I've so much to write. I've so much to tell.
And from my fingers, poetry flew.
But no one read them. No one knew.

Now the cast of one is barren and dry.
Her lips move, but no sound's inside.
Her feet are still, the ink is gone.
The stage is dark, the curtain drawn.