A Poem

TheDance

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