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So, at school we had to make a poem about our passion, and I chose dance: I arrive at dance Excited and glad. I look around the room And get signed in.

The warmup has begun We begin to stretch, “To the left, To the right, Straighten your legs.”

I feel free I feel weightless. I dance my worries off.

The music then starts We go from the start, 1⁄2 an hour passes, Hip hop has begun.

Why is dance easy for some, But hard for another? Like tying your shoes Or painting a canvas.

Jump Twist And turn Slide to the right. Increase your speed And follow my lead.

I see bags, Drink bottles, Loose shoes, And Speakers,

Alas, a break I get out my water I eat my food. I talk with my friend And then suddenly, Jazz has begun.

My last class has begun We go from the start And learn a new part.

I hear the shoes, Banging on the floor, The teachers, Yelling, “Five, six, seven, eight.”

The mirror in front of us Shakes around, Vibrations and music, Our jazz shoes begin, To bang the ground.

Jump, slide and turn, Bounce on the fifth count. Move your positions, Don’t lose track.

“The concerts coming up, You should be prepared.” The pressure is on, It’s the only dance con.

Before you know it Dance is over, And would you look at that, So is this poem.