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She stood behind the curtain
Poised and full of grace
Butterflies in her tummy
Dressed in tights and antique lace
Her painted cheeks were rosey
Her nails were polished red
One hand around her middle
The other poised abover her head
Her smile, so bright and cheerful
So mature for her tender age
At last, the curtain parted
The tiny ballerina danced across the stage
And when the dance was over
She was presented with a rose
I was that ballerina
So many years ago.
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