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Life is only a sadistic tango that I was swept into.
I wail out for relief for my calloused feet.
But my right hand is entangled with the Universe's left,
And their right is firm on my waist.
They lead me through this tune that's
driven me weary.
Stepping on my own toes will earn me no end.
Even if I my legs ceased to move;
For God is steadily playing a rhythm called fate,
And the Universe is whispering "The show must go on."
(I struggle deeply with punctuating my poems so any advice is welcomed)
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