Excerpt from "The Cry of our Children"

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I Wear My Wounds as Badges.

I beat my chest as if to say,

Captivity shaped me,
became my training arena,
and defiance’s my coat of honor,

Inequality made me pliable,

Though that crushes people,
I’ll never be trampled.

 I regard pity as an enemy.

It strips people of dignity,
Adds insult to injury,

I beat my chest victoriously,

I wear my wounds as badges.


In The Arms of a Friend

Wish I could sleep beside you.
I know where I'd lay my head.
I'd never have another sleepless night.
I'd wrap my arms around you, knowing that was right.

And if I ever hurt again,
it wouldn't matter in the arms of a friend.
There I would be comforted.
And I'd be a happy person once again.

Things won’t always go as expected.
People have their different ways.
I’m the same as I’ve always been.
I want a life that’s peaceful and serene.

Where would I be without hope?
I'm sick and weary from trying.
No lie could convince me that I'd be fine.
But these hopes and beliefs are truly mine.