They told him to be a carpenter.
His stupid black fingers could never form equations of substantial value;
they were simply meant to grow callused and rough,
like his soul,
as they built the large houses he could never afford.

They told him to be a painter.
He lacked the skill to be an inventor-
to create light or wind or space like his God.
His hands could never create sound
as they floated through air in front of an orchestra.
They could only transform the house his brother built into a color he couldn't spell.

They told him to be a miner.
The coal could blend with his skin,
hopefully thick enough to smother him out of society.
The soot from his skin would cover the beakers and test tubes,
making him incapable of performing the experiments necessary
to develop a more reasonable resource in a lab that could save the world from death.

They told him to be a mechanic.
His hands were meant for hard labor, oil and grease,
not healing ailing bodies as their organs began to falter from an automobile collision.
He was too dumb to save a life;
he could only fix a car for a dead corpse.

They told him what he could be
in order to tell him he was incapable of greater things
as he held his dark face with darker features in his hands, weak from wiping tears.
People build their dreams based on encouragement-
this man knew no such words.

He told me I would be a doctor.
My hands were meant for healing hearts and multiplying white blood cells,
as well as lives and smiles.
I would save a nation, a dying breed of people
because God has given me His own hands.

He told me I would be a lawyer.
My hunger for justice would fuel a revolution
and all would know their innocence held true value.
The rights of men were of sincere importance and I would protect them at all costs,
especially young men told to be painters and carpenters,
because I was one of the few with the integrity to do so.

He told me I would be a president.
My words would meet a standard higher than those on the political spectrum.
I would part the seas flooding a nation
because I had been blessed by the Holy Waters of God.
The theory that peace was in a land too far away would be broken
as I carried the world to the Promise Land.

He told me I would be an astronaut.
I would defy the status quo while defying gravity
as I became the greatest pioneer since Sacagawea.
My brilliant mind would fill with every star I peeled from the sky to light my path to Heaven.
And I would show the globe how to fly despite the odds.

He told me what I could be in order to tell me I was capable of great things
as my small, tan hand intertwined with his dark hand, callused and rough from raising a child of God.
He knew that people build their dreams based on encouragement-
and I know the words he never had the chance to.

--For my Dad