My body moves in waves

My mind sways to the belting voice

That calls my people-my blood-thugs.

He caresses my brown, kinky locs,

Then grips them with his oppressive hands.

He yanks me to my knees to shackle me once more.

But I rise up to the Man.

My hands shake with the anger of my ancestors,

The future of my predecessors.

I will break the chains.

I will break the shackles of stereotypes.

I reach to the heavens,

I call upon my own.

And together.

We rise.

We strengthen.

And we break.


© Liyah Lee