There’s a song inside of you,
a beat taps its way around.
The tune carrying you’re through
has a melody that can’t be found.
It marches and drums and circles
round your chest like a full marching band.
It keeps you to truths universal,
it holds tight to your hand.
Can’t anyone else hear it beat?
How it pounds, how it pumps, how it shrieks?
Though to others it seems a defeat
no one else will know your techniques.
So be different, my friend, let it echo.
Listen to that drummer inside.
The truth would be your stiletto-
this rhyme will be your guide.
I’m practicing my rhyming poetry!