She danced, sang, composed, performed
As beautifully as she could.
With the hopes he might be watching.
She could never ask him, and he would never tell.
But in every movement, every word, she screamed her love.
And only he heard his name.
It was unsightly,
this display between them.
Her eyes always longing for some recognition.
Always begging for hope.
Too desparately.
Too often.
Too much.
The more he saw, the less he loved
Until eventually she was but a clown.
Dancing for his attention.
And he had stopped watching long ago,
His name lost in the ravings of a desperate fool.
