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Nov 2015
You may write me down in history 
With your bitter, twisted lies, 
You may tread me in the very dirt 
But still, i rise 

Just like moons and like suns, 
With the certainty of tides, 
Just like hopes springing high, 
Still I'll rise. 

Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops. 
Weakened by my soulful cries. 



You may shoot me with your words, 
You may cut me with your eyes, 
You may **** me with your hatefulness, 
But still, like air, I'll rise. 

 

Out of the huts of history's shame 
I rise 
Up from a past that's rooted in pain 
I rise 
I'm a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that's wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise.
This poem is for a dear friend of mine. I hope she likes it. She had a hard time and u wrote this for her
David The Wanderer
Written by
David The Wanderer  The world
(The world)   
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