Lazy Poetry

Opaque

I watch as ash falls around me
Gazing at the white, cloudy sight
There is nothing here to focus on
I don't want to leave, but I might

The flames burned out long ago
Though my weapons are still not low
Because in each ash-flake, I can clearly hear
The speaking of people I know

They call to me in desperation
Searching for an impossible answer
It's as if, though I'm not co-ordinated
They expect me to be a dancer

"I'm a fighter, not an artist!" I tell them
Speaking gently and with great ease
They take that as an "Okay", and before I know
I feel like more of a sleaze

I'm dressed up in tights and grassy green frills
And sway a ribbon in mid air
I'm aiming for all the highest points
But the judges don't seem to care

Although I gave in and helped a friend
To become themselves again
I lost the dignity and confidence in me
Only for the judges to look and ask, "When?"

I feel my burning is opaque
That my smile is just for show
And even though it's not for me
I can't bring myself to say "No."