THE BEAT GOES ON

The music in me is loud and clear,
Helps me take away all the fear.
It never leaves me-like a guy,
But it is something I cannot buy.

It alms me when I'm wide awake,
Though I can hear it when down breaks.
Writing music shows people who you are,
Also tells that you're a star.

Everything inspires a song,
It doesn't matter how short or long.
The song can be above love or hate,
Or even be about running late.

Music comes from the heart,
Just like a masterpiece of art.
It comes in many languages like Spanish,
And it is sweet like a Danish.

When it comes to music, I love it the most,
Though it can not make me boast.
I want my music heard far and near,
I write songs about things I hold dear.

author: Jackie Aird

SPRING'S COME

The cruel, gloomy night embeds you
And everywhere you look
There's nothing but hate
As it grows late
The streets accumulate
With Hope's foe
Lost Faith.

But don't worry
The clouds will soon begin
Making rhythm and
Melody by the beat of the sun's drum
And all your sorrow will slowly disappear
In springs come

People might say you're a fake
Others might say you're a lost cause
Because those who discriminate
All the while anticipate
For you to fall

But don't worry
The clouds will soon begin
Making rhythm and
Melody by the beat of the sun's drum
And all your sorrow will slowly Disappear
In spring's come

author: Hakeela Buford