Music Box

Mechanism wound tightly and lock unbidden, 
We release our ballerina to her forced pirouette, 
Fourth ordinaire position
A twist of submission, 
She rotates with perfect poise and grace.

As cheery notes clink along to her misery, 
A foot permanently pointed upon the spring, 
Her expression unmoving
Eyes glazed head turning, 
But a piece of plastic without meaning or end.

The clinks slow as the tension lowers gradually, 
Her forced dance for her master about to be paused, 
In stasis she is returned
Lid lowered latch bolted, 
She cries for her endless torment that no one else sees.