"haughtiness" poems
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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.
17.5k
*She dances, possessed by the haughtiness
That inhabits the children of pureness.
She spreads her locks over her heart,
Eglantine and amber, equal in parts.
She cries for herself, in a cruel ******
Her tears, flowing daggers in her soul of wax.
What are these insolent games she plays?
Teaching her shadows irreverent ways
And nurturing a hectic stillness.
What voices haunt her murmured boldness?
Her lullaby, pillowed by destruction
Hummed solely out of her own compassion.
She waves to her cousins, the silver lights,
Painters of the robe of the summer nights.
She burns ,as them, freckling the darkness
With a light, a fragrance, and a caress.
She is passion, a witness, a deity
Existing, not for light, but for beauty.*
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 12:51 PM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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.
From And Still I Rise by Maya Angelou. Copyright © 1978 by Maya Angelou.
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 2:39 AM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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.
Jul 24, 2012
Jul 24, 2012 at 1:18 AM UTC
He slid his arm around
The coolness
Of disdain,
Felt the distance
Of an Arctic plain,
Rested his hand
Upon an alabaster
Thigh,
Saw eternal haughtiness
In stony eyes.
Human heart
Has he;
She
Heart of stone.
To tempt a man
To be so close,
But always so alone.
Nov 29, 2011
Nov 29, 2011 at 7:45 AM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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. By maya angelou
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 3:00 PM UTC
An angel chief--the precentor of heaven's
Unequalled choir--silvery and dulcet was his
Voice afore the throne of God and his fold;
Lovely and fair his appearance was to behold.
Hearken to him as he the King's celestial
Hymns leads that give adoration to his especial
Majesty, making melody along with the angels
Whole, while praising Jehovah in awe dwells.
But how soon would this angel change and be
Clothed no more in chaste grace and glory,
Rather in pride and pity! I'm more than ye all
Who in paradise live. I'm the foremost of all
Beings. Who're archangels Michael and Gabriel
Compare to me, Lucifer, the only greatest earl?
I the highest and the best-- sovereign being--
That towers above Christ the Son begotten;
I'll even God usurp! I'm the most powerful
Here; the morn star that's blindly beautiful!
Haughtiness so into him entered as cupidity into
Judas. And began he to say things profane to
God his Creator, the Maker of all. And thus
War there was between the defector's caucus
And the Lord's host. Michael, who's the principal
Of warfare wherefore Lucifer--the evil cardinal--
Engaged. How fierce beyond a running pen
Was that battle unspeakble in God's holy haven
Seen betwixt the faithful and the rebel!
Yet good unflinching conquered the uprising evil
And cast Satan straightaway down unto the earth
With one-third of the angels from heaven's berth.
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 6:33 AM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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.
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 10:16 PM UTC
O my Lord, I am not concerned,
with things that do not involve me.
Let all forms of pride or haughtiness,
be set aside and permanently forgotten.
Let me bask under Your righteousness.
O my Lord, I am not concerned,
with silly, worldly desires of vanity,
which are solely designed to distract me.
As one of Your children, let me be content
with my Kingdom purpose and Your decrees.
O my Lord, I am not concerned,
with the weariness of this human flesh,
since I have chosen to place my hope in You.
Thank You, for My strength and satisfaction.
So now, I wait patiently for my breakthrough.
O my Lord, I am not concerned,
with retribution for wrongs against me,
but allow me to always carry forgiveness.
Let Your joy be evident in my frail life,
spreading seeds of goodness and kindness.
.
.
.
Author Notes:
Loosely based on:
Psa 131; Eccl 2:11; Phil 4:11-12; Isa 5:16, 54:17;
Neh 8:10; Matt 6:14-15; Eph 1:7; 2 Cor 5:21
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2014, All rights reserved.
May 1, 2014
May 1, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I'll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom? 'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don't you take it awful hard
'Cause I laugh like I've got gold mines
Diggin' in my own back yard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I've got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history's shame
I riseup 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
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC
There's a devil in me
Her name is Marianne.
She's my impulsiveness
my scorn
my haughtiness
and, yes, my insanity.
If I'm the balloon the boy let go of, she's the one who murmured to let me go- convinced I could fly
But-
I CAN NOT FLY.
It is a simple thing.
I am no bird.
I am no balloon.
or maybe i am.
but I'm a penguin.
or a thin-skinned animal balloon.
Perhaps I can run, jump, dance
I CAN NOT FLY.
So I must beg the boy,
* don't
let go
of me.
please.
i'll float too high and
P O P!*
Ah, but panting into his other ear is
Marianne.
**I wants to try out my wings!
I want to
kiss that boy,
slap those *******
steal a car,
run away to Europe,
become a ninja,
ride a dragon,
and on
and on
and on.
Just let go.**
*Let's get this straight, Marianne.
I CANNOT FLY.
The boy?
doesn't love us
Those *******
are people too.
That car?
is not ours.
Europe?
is expensive
Become a ninja?
we're afraid of the dark!
Ride a dragon?
they aren't real! and we're afraid of heights!
And on and on and on?
where would you stop?
I CAN'T FLY!
I'm a penguin!
I am charming
sweet
graceful, even
But-
We will not live your dreams.
please.
don't let go.*
she gasps,
**I want to dance!
I want to sing!
I want to shout!
I want to laugh!
I want to love!
I WANT IT ALL!!!
Fling us free, up into the blue yonder!
Live fast and die young!
We'll live forever-ever-ever!
YOU CAN FLY!
WE'LL SOAR ABOVE EVERYONE!**
i whisper
*no.
hang on.
don't let me go.
hold me close.
i can not fly*
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 10:27 PM UTC
you may write me down in history
with your bitter, twisted lies,
you may tread me in the very dirt,
but still, like dust, I’ll rise
does my clumsiness upset you?
why are you beset with gloom?
‘cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
pumping in my living room.
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.
does my haughtiness offend you?
don’t take it awful hard
‘cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
diggin’ in my own backyard.
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.
does my hotness upset you?
does it come as a surprise?
that I dance like I’ve got diamonds
at the meething of my thighs?
out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
up from a past that’s been 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 hope of the slave.
i rise
i rise
i rise
— A.P.
Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 1:53 AM UTC
I don't need a hero
Someone to swoop in at the last minute
I don't need a human savior
You don't know what you're doing
You think you're so high and mighty
Angelic goodness wrapped in flesh
You're so blinded by your haughtiness
You can't see that you're living death
You only know how to use
To take until there's nothing left
Too bad I know your tricks
It won't be me that's left for dead
I can take care of myself
I know how to write out the pain
I love the friends I've made
Something you'll never obtain
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 12:56 AM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
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?
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own backyard.
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.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
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.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
Believe it or not,
there are men who shriek like
banshees at the deathbed of a sickly dog,
and women that remain impenetrable
like the broadsides of an iron ship
at the prospect of loss. Not all
executives wear the silk tie
of haughtiness, but bump shoulders
with the rounded backs of street beggars.
And just as the moon waxes and wanes, organizing
the stars into a symphony of light, so too
do the clouds occasionally close the curtains
on the whole performance.
I am a poet but I do not cry.
I am a man but I do not push nor pull,
throwing around wantonly the weight of the cosmos.
I like to think that each of my billions upon billions
of atoms move as gracefully as swans
under their own microscopes,
forcing each and every onlooker to stare
and pick at their own skin
in a search for uniqueness.
Jun 25, 2013
Jun 25, 2013 at 11:14 AM UTC
Daddy, please don't be a drunker anymore
Give us joy and happiness like before again
Show us that your love is still in your heart
Just after you made friendship with alcohols
Haughtiness afraid of passing our house by
Loneliness gets in our house like you gave it
Please look at our tears and make us smile
Take away our pains and make it a home
Where we can find our family's love again
Please change to before you were alcoholic
I beg you with the tear and pain from inside
Daddy, please stop drinking what made you bad
Oct 27, 2013
Oct 27, 2013 at 4:23 PM UTC
The Artiste Carvó's "The Greatest Fartist Alive"
(Another Crummy Acrostic)
T is for **** I am attended by flies...
H is for Haughtiness, I am flowing through the fartist's stanks...
E is for Enema, my fine **** pollutes the very hole...
G is for Gigantic, I am the biggest ego in history...
R is for Refluxing, my fine putriditry puts artistry in ******
E is for Emetic, I truly am expelling...
A is for ******* I posses the gift of ****
T is for ****** I leave no stomach un-turned...
E is for Excrutiating, my words torture the very soul...
S is for ****** My logic is slimy....
T is for Tag-along, I truly am shadowed by all and everyone...
F is for Fatuous and Flatulence, the essence of I…
A is for Archfiend, demon am I...
R is for Revulsion, My art is abomination - My art yet *****
T is for Tedious, I have been placed here to bore people to death...
I is for Idiot, I am truly unblessed...
S is for Selfish, I place **** before I's self...
T is for Talenticide, I have killed all things of art...
A is for Asinine, I possess all lacks...
L is for Lifeless, I truly worm the artistic heart...
I is for Idolize, I worship I...
V is for Venomous, I am all that is spite and impure...
E is for Emasculated, I am indubitably impotent...
This sums up why I and I alone am the greatest fartist alive,
And I will of course do one of my great farts in time.
*Original ('The Greatest Artiste Alive') by: Thee Artist aka Logbrain Crappó
Reworked by: CrE aka Trollminator*
Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
There is much to be said for swing sets.
An impenetrable fortress that sits atop a mountain top.
Stoic,
solid,
it rests like a pigeon before the first due fall.
I listen and watch it rise and leave,
carried by the wind.
Oh, how bitter grief tastes,
like the saddened bubble gum,
chewing until you can chew no more.
'I am sick and tired of this,' she says,
mouthing the lyrics to her favorite songs.
She is little, yet large,
with a beak of gold and an air of haughtiness about her.
She is ridiculous --
a blue bird full of life and substance,
characterized by her emotions.
'What is to become of me?' she wonders aloud.
'What can I say?'
I am hypothetical today -- hypothetical and sad.
Characterized by my emotions,
and the color of my dress.
Dec 5, 2013
Dec 5, 2013 at 6:38 PM UTC
I have to shout to you over the noise of the television
In the form of a million other eyes
Standing, waiting, weeping
Watching our country slowly drip with wet paint
Stained in the color of loss
Peace, by piece, by piece
Smothered by your haughtiness and weak foresight
I have abandoned hope to the intangible concept of your knife
slitting the throats of a future generation
cutting out their docile voices
so only yours can be heard
Nov 16, 2016
Nov 16, 2016 at 9:41 PM UTC
a pair of bad eggs they do make
by always playing an ill game
we've grown accustom to their shake
over at the forum's house frame
by always playing an ill game
they've caused such great naughtiness
over at the forum's house frame
we've seen all their gross haughtiness
they've caused such great naughtiness
which can't be gladly excused
we've seen all their gross haughtiness
this behaviour they've well used
which can't be gladly excused
a twosome showing disregard
this behaviour they've well used
in the nice recreation yard
a twosome showing disregard
we've grown accustom to their shake
in the nice recreation yard
a pair of bad eggs they do make
Jun 13, 2018
Jun 13, 2018 at 6:40 PM UTC
Where I'm from
Most kids have never heard the words
"We can't afford that."
Where I'm from
Is marked by men in business suits
Who always seem to work a little too late
Where I'm from
No love for my curves.
"Are you really going to eat that?"
My largeness makes me a target
Where I'm from
Closet bulimics
Binge drink and purge in the morning
Fakeness is the measure of success
Why do you think the popular girls all look the same anyway?
Where I'm from
They act like choosing between a salad and a burger
Is actually a ******* decision.
Where I'm from
****** problem
Know at least three people who lost the light in their eyes
Because the monster blew out the candle
Where I'm from
It might as well be snowing year round
The people are so cold and white
Where I'm from
Nearly every parent is a narcissist
Believes their child is the next Ronald Reagan
He is their idol, after all
Where I'm from
There is no "two-party system"
Republicans win every local election
Where I'm from
They value the sanctity of life
Until one of those lives is an unarmed person of color
Then their tongues become laced with haughtiness and gunpowder
Where I'm from
Makes excuses for bad cops
Welcome to Small Town, America
Where we decorate our racism with jewelry
That way, no one knows the extent of its ugliness
Where I'm from
I ask questions, get shot down
Like Trayvon's body as it lies like an arrow in the street
Why is his life worth less than mine?
Where I'm from
Thinks abortion is ******
If we care so much about babies
Why do we not care that Tamir Rice was twelve
When his last breath was forced from his collapsing lungs?
A baby.
Where I'm from
My privilege becomes a loaded gun
But I will not fire
I try to keep the safety on
Safety on
Because I know I have the potential
To act on the only way of existing
That I have been taught
Where I'm from
At least half my friends' parents were divorced
I was told lying to get ahead
Is better than speaking up
Here is my voice for those who have been silenced by oppression
Where I'm from
Has shown me you cannot outgrow your bloodline
I have betrayal in my background
This is who I was meant to be
Where I'm from
They taught me to pray
So I pray daily
That these hands with the potential to shoot
Will instead pave roads for people
Who cannot currently walk down the street
Without the fear of taking their last steps.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 7:09 PM UTC
The quintessence of Christian living and lifestyle,
is becoming more like Christ through everyday trials;
Flaunting documentation of accomplishments compiled,
will not impress The Almighty or even make Him smile.
Are you hungering or thirsting for His Righteousness?
Or is it some vain imaginary or visionary theorization
to demonstrate a haughtiness of spiritual intellect?
Just because you’re a part of Jehovah’s holy nation,
doesn’t mean that you can bully the unsaved to join.
The World understands and recognizes poor behaviors;
Doing what’s right and being satisfied before God,
implies that you are properly honoring our Savior
through personal conduct and true transparent living.
An increasing affinity for some spiritual pleasance,
is not equivalent to having a relationship with Him.
Religious ideologies are empty… without His Presence.
.
.
.
Author Notes
Inspired by:
Matt 5:6; Phil 1:9-11; Acts 20:17-21
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 11:04 AM UTC
You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies
You may tres me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I am waking like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room
Just like moons and like stars
With the certainty of tides
Just like hopes springing high
Still I rise
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling like teardrops
Weakened by my soulful cries?
Does my haughtiness upset you?
Don’t take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my backyard
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 rise
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
I Rise
Out from a past that’s rooted in pain
I Rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide
Welling and swelling I bear the tide
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I Rise
Into daybreak that’s wonderfully clear
I Rise
Bringing the gifts my ancestors gave
I am the dream and the hope of the slave
I Rise
I Rise
I Rise
Mar 25, 2019
Mar 25, 2019 at 8:41 PM UTC
As I sat, in the dark night of sadness,
Lamenting about the past,
And I was oblivious about her haughtiness,
Made me think, will I be able to get her back?
Missing that illuminating smile on her face,
Old happy conversations with her,
To the most blighted connection between us now,
Made me think, will I be able to get her back?
Jan 28, 2015
Jan 28, 2015 at 1:49 PM UTC