They told us if we worked, we could

be anything. We could tear down walls,

if they didn't sprawl too far into the sky

or across dozens of dry desserts and swaying

ocean waves. We could launch to the stars

if our skin matched the color of the moon.

A degree with our names printed in ink could

be hung on walls if our families handed out

small loans. We could be anything in a land

quilted with freedom. Believe me.