I Am...

Who is to say what I am?

Am I a girl?

Well clearly, I am.

Does that not make me a woman,

Powerful and determined?

Because clearly, I am.

Am I my race?

My heritage?

My personality?

My background?

Who is to say what exactly it is that I am?

I am not the color of my skin,

Nor the power in my voice.

I am not my smile in the sunlight,

Nor the dark thoughts that wait for me in the shadows.

I am not a troublemaker,

A wavemaker,

A ruffian, rapscallion, rouge.

I am a free thinker.

I am a revolutionary in the making.

I am the sun breaking through the clouds,

A single ripple on a seemingly placid lake, 

The calm before the storm.

Though I do not question,

I am not ignorant.

Though I do not shout in the streets,

I am not compliant.

I am quiet and calculative,

Not violent or dangerous.

I am not a threat, 

I am not a worry,

I am not an enemy.

I am a daughter,

A sister,

A friend.

I am laughter in a quiet room,

And love formed from an endless bond.

I am who my environment has made me to be,

And who are you to tell me to be anything otherwise?

Who are you to tell me who I am?

I know who I am,

And I wouldn't want to be

Anyone but me.

This poem is about: 


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