They step on my toes, and ignore my woes, they tell me I am not beautiful, you deny me employment, then say I'm lazy, then when I'm angered you say I'm militant, and crazy. You say we are animals, and deserve to be caged, so you built for us these ghetto graves, But despite the burning tears in my eyes, like the sun, I rise. WHen I was lynched and deserted to a tree top grave, when I was taken from my home and made a slave, when you called me names, and spit in my face, like the sun, I rose with grace. And whenever you called me a mammy on tv, you still couldn't take my pride away from me. Though I must unravel, so many lies, like the sun, I rise. You may burden me financially, even blacken my eyes, like the sun, I rise. You may set me a fire, and extinguish my cries, but like the sun, I shall continue to rise. . . Copyright 1998, Erica Hughes
Reason for writing:
I dedicate to all who suffer injustices.
Birth sign: Libra
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