I stood,

soul bleeding

and body cracked


I rose,

struck back

at the stay and can’t do

taught by society.


I learned of this land

that was not mine,

was taught a story

that clouded

judgment and belief

drowning me

in limitations

that echoed the flaws of my life.


It was told in a voice of dominance


unclean expectations

that left myself

twisted and oppressed.


Those who still sweat

and are shit on

are not held back

by the ones beating

but the makers

afford those

who choose opportunity.


I arrived and found

the spawn of choice

by the spark of desire

used faith as a verb

and stepped forward.


I decided

when my moment came

from volcanic valleys,

bolts erupting

bound in lightning.

I would strike.


Even though

the rain had me

I wanted to fly.


by Marjorie Broussard


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