Both when young did take to dance,
But she much younger than he,
For she was to take it seriously.
Her tutu frilly and puffy,
His pants unchanged from on the street,
Her leotard skin tight but neat,
His shirt same as the pants and rather gruffy.
She grew in mind and in talent,
He stayed the same immature indignant boy,
Her skills she began to employ,
Inside him no such grace was to ferment.
Soon she was the soloing queen,
He now in tights and leotard,
She, on his account, had been forever scarred,
He in slippers white, such a hideous scene.
And so they dance this dynamic pair.
The ballerina in grace and beauty,
The ballerino, as if on some obnoxious duty,
She with finesse to light up the stage,
Him so clumsy to send the audience into a rage.
For five fast months the show goes on.
To see her dance they shall come for many more,
let this be only the first of many acts.
-The Ballerino
