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. - Maya Angelou

         You  can reduce down to make 
me minizied but still I rise   No one ever wants to sympathize nor realize that I'm more than you think I am filp the table that's what they want to see me do  They turn my history sour with the bitter false claimed lies but still I rise  Walk over me Spit on me Piss on me like the ground thats under their feet.
   So your just gonna let them do this ? Who gonna tell them to stop ? NO ONE I GUESS NO SOMEONE WILL! WHO ? ME! I WILL! Walk out into the street and they already pouring bullets at a NEGRO feet everyone of them hit me  but they won't see me bleed I will stand there and recieve while my mother is looking down from heaven to see her baby get shot the one she conceived 
This poem is about: 


Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741