A lovely plié, a perfect sashay, draws applause from the audience. The avid claps keep her coming back to this stage her life, this dance her chance to prove to her self that she isn’t faulted.

Her talent indisputable, her charms unarguably natural. But in her performance you find an error of great importance for in her pirouette you see that she dances for you, and in your applause she will find the greatest peace in her mind. The only bliss her performance causes her is the praise that comes with, and the self satisfaction it will raise.

Here come the faults a stumble here a trip there. The audience is uncomfortable and together they all see that the pressure to garner a good impression has caused ballerina’s regression. She sees not her mistakes, but only the audience’s poor taste in their judgement and aggressive debasement.

She once danced for herself and what a lovely dance it was. A freestyle of hopes and dreams, so long ago it seems that this lovely dancer was a genuine prancer through kindness and realizations that her creation wasn’t for other’s entertainment, but for her own achievement.

Ballerina twirls and with it comes unexpected contact with the floor, such failure opens the door to recognition that her value lies within the applause of her own heart not those who watch from afar.

She stands… her back to the audience she leaps up and down a spin then two, a punch in the air, she let down her hair. As she continued to prance her heart beat advanced in happy movements that were a testament to her newfound freedom from other’s opinions. The audience clapped and stood for Ballerina’s dance was remarkably vivacious and her enjoyment thoroughly contagious. But alas ballerina cared not a fig because she danced and pranced and lived to her own heart felt jig.