Walking down the street
they’re chilling, killing time
in overloaded beats
sowing seeds to feed
the need, the creed
of rhythm beyond rhyme
No work, just being there
the street a place to be
to meet, to greet
the beat a common source
where hearts and thoughts
even abroad on board
same languages will share
‘Make up your mind en find
a dancing place, embrace
the grace, the phase
and let yourself behind’
What else would you do
when future has no chance
home just a narrow gate,
betrayed by hate
no faith, no shade
for hiding selfdefence
No money to fulfil
an educated way
just stay and weigh
each day an empty hole
to maul or crawl
but when the beat recalls
horizons will be built
‘Make up your mind and find
a dancing place, embrace
the grace, the phrase
and let yourself behind.’
Sowing seeds to feed
the need, the creed
of rhythm beyond rhyme.
© JELOU
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