Still I Rise

For days when you feel beaten. For days when you think you cannot go on. For days where you feel futile. And for days where you feel gone.

Whilst you may think me weird for posting this, because it’s obvious context is not entirely applicable to me, it resonates so much more than it’s context.

I hope, one day, my daughter reads this on a day she needs it most.

And rises.

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou
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 kill 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.