Fingers are fleet, brain is busy,
these words are working their
way onto page.

I sit and I strum, the song of
my structure, no music sheet
helping my stage.

Seeds are sowing, the doubt
dries drumming, I ponder
and pause for an age.

I need to break free, to unshackle
my chains, to build up and
burst forth my rage.

I have ability in me, my doubts
are a lie, I shall not, will
never be caged.