I Danced to His Tune for Money

I Danced to His Tune for Money

He played the fool with polished shoes,

all charm and smirk and clever cues.

I knew the game, I knew the cost,

each step a win, each breath a loss.

I swayed when called, I kept the beat,

my pride tucked low beneath the seat.

The notes were loud, the pay was clear,

I danced for cash, not love, not fear.

He clapped, I bowed, the curtain fell,

no need to cry, no tale to tell.

He paid, I left, heels clicking dry,

I danced, he watched, and that was why.

No looking back, no echo song,

just silence where I don’t belong.

I wore the role, it fit me tight,

but not enough to steal my light.

It was when he said he would pay double for more.

He said, “Lay down.” I said, “What for?”

He said, “I will pay for your body, my sweet.”

I kicked him and ran, my dancing ending — I had been beat.

So now I work from nine to five,

doing normal shelf-stacking just to keep me fed and alive.

Gone the dancing pay, back to earth I fell with a bump.

Dancing was good, it kept me thin,

now I am unhappy broke and plump.