Well that was the Strictly final - wow. It is the modern LSD for the wannabe.
So here is my slightly darker poem run to the same rules as my secondary school teacher who always kindly said.... “Write a poem... you don’t have to make it rhyme...”
POISE.
What is poise in a dancer?
If not an elegant poison
A toxin to fix the gaze
Curare for the hopeless romantic
A paralytic to make every muscle statuesque
Every muscle.
But the heart.
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