Poem: Glass Dance

On glass floor does one oft dance,
A wind imparting, a lasting chance.

For ever adrift in the bogged moor,
That bonds remain, forevermore.

Alone in the darkness will the doll thus ponder,
But in the shadows, were they meant to wander.

A Cheshire smile in the twilight gloom.
That does uneasily rise, as the crescent moon.

A spiteful grin, but a mockery true.
That always will she dance, forever rue.