17 with a lot of dreams.
Every day they rip at the seams.
Try to take my voice and I'll scream louder.
Try to take push me down and I'll fight harder.
This heart is mine and mine alone.
With nothing but my thoughts I traverse into the unknown.
Once blind and deaf, I now see
The crisis of the land of the free.
School shootings, black community attacks
Now I know we can never turn our backs.
Once I was young, quiet and cold
Now I am older, louder and bold.
Violence looms overs, a dark cloud
Intelligence fleets in an angry crowd.
Why do I write?
This is my fight.
I don't need to bare my fists.
I can change my world with the flick of a wrist.
This is my voice, it will be heard.
I will rise from ashes, like the fire bird.