I like to start my poems off with a beat

One and two and three and four

Its the bass – it pumps and shoots like the start gun in a race

Its the beginning of  a moment, its more than a sound

Five and six and seven  and eight

Its the shining sun, the blue sky, the hot ground

And now its a rhythm, whatever may be

Nine and ten, with my poem i start with a beat

Breathing the air left from three days grace

Taking more from inspiration’s face

Of beauty, glory, freedom, and clarity

Because my poem came by a start

From a beat, through a thought, derived from life

Given by a heart, powered by beats

From the beginning we’ve designed our end

Life’s music, rhythms one through ten

And I birth a masterpiece

Of thoughts, from life full of heartbeats

And somehow I came up with a poem