Fool of the Dance
Zach Sneddon

Curse these wooden feet
Nailed to the floor
I can't dance
I can't fake it
I have no rhythm

Dancing queen,
Young and sweet,
Feels the beat of the tambourine
While I stand statuelike in the corner
Frozen by my inability to match her

Her spirit flies on the dance floor
I would that mine could wheel and soar with hers
But hers skims the stars
Mine crawls along the sand
Gathering only dust

Staring up at her
I would that I could join
But I have yet to grow wings
Or even legs





"Dancing Queen," by ABBA.



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