angelou
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Thank the lord for Maya Angelou
When the world went fast, she took things slow
Her hopes held high when her head hung low
She spoke her truth so we all could know
The good lord gave us Maya Angelou
Somebody yells
Glass hurls into a wall
Hands draw up;
a half-hearted attempt at a protection
that shouldn't be needed.
A free me breathes in the air
As I spread my wings
As I sing and as I scream
For joy
No less
I put my wings
To the test
And fly. And soar.
And go through
The open door
I'm no Maya Angelou, Mark Twain, or Emerson.
I don't yet know my dearest complaints, intents, or direction.
I've never been hurt so bad that I've been deeply pained,
I have, however, seen enough to know that we need change.