Can you hear the sound of drums?

of footsteps fleeing

of scrambling feet,

falling over, hitting the ground with spasmodic turns of speed.

Can you hear the tempo of running, of fear,

the drumming feet, a backdrop to the screams of departing life?

Can you hear them outside your door?

Pounding on your window, begging to be let in,

Away from the pestilence that devours, bone, flesh and blood?


Can you hear the sound of drums?

Can you hear the drums of war?

Drumming triggered by the words of your hate,

Drums beaten by the staccato of your vitriol,

Veins bulging, spit spewing anger

Vile, suffocating hate

that hits the skin of indifference.

‘Not my problem’

‘Not my headache’

‘Not my war.’


Can you hear the sound of drums?

The drumming of a heart that beats with the same rhythm as yours?

Covered with muscles and blood and flesh

So very much like yours.

But it is the skin

Which is darker than yours

or lighter than yours

From a different place to yours

More feminine than yours

More masculine than yours

The resonance of a heart that believes a different thing from yours.

So different that you cannot hear the sound of drums,

Will not hear the sound of drums,

till the drumming stops. . .


Please listen,

Let go of your hate, let go of your anger,

We all need to hear the sound of drums





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