I miss the hard wooden floor beneath my
  bare feet
I miss the flying and fleeting moments of
  improved steps
I miss the unknown becoming known
I miss the repetive count that revealed the
  unexpected
I miss the music and the rapid heart beats
I miss the sweat and the blood and the
  aches and the pains and the heartbreak
    and failures and triumphs and success
I miss the stage and the stage freight
I miss the wings and the spot light
I miss the pitch black silence
I miss the roar of the crowd
I miss the life and the love and the
  feet that use to be mine
When I was part of the dance