The Dance

A Poem


The Dance

I love you, though
You put me in a box,
Made of steel, with four locks.

In your mind, I am
A beautiful, helpless creature,
To be protected from evil's nature.

You to me, in the same respect,
Have made you my hero,
Fearless, iron strength, invincible.

Truth be told, we are both wrong,
Neither, am I too weak,
Nor are you made so strong.

It is only a story we dream,
As we go along life's path,
Hero and damsel, we love the dance.


©2021 Joan Wiley

Published by Joan Wiley❤

An American writer of dark future, Sci-Fi Fantasy, and poetry. I need snacks, love attention, take naps, and get moody. I may possibly be a cat.🐱

6 thoughts on “The Dance

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