Like Maya Angelou,

I rise.

My circumstances beat me down,

my age,

my race

my money,

they all let me down.

But I rise from the ashes of what was burnt.

And drift up from the sweltered dirt.

I can’t help but rise,

the women before my time

set the standard.

So I stand today.

From this moment forward

I won’t

let her drugs

kill me.

His absence,

bitter me.

Or these circumstances,

drown me.

I am bigger.

I am better.

And like she said,

I rise.