To me, a beat
is just a cage
Made of kicks, snares and hi-hats.
So let it not be only a vessel for agression
But let it be a home
for a trapped bird
singing songs of nostalgia and hope.
The same who visited Mr Keats. and Ms. Angelou
& doubtless countless others.
Let us peer through the bars and see beyond the front
To the bottom of the stillest waters.