Rising from Shadows

When I was young, so small and weak,

No voice to rise, no right to speak. My brother's rage would strike me down,

Yet I was blamed in every town.

My father claimed it was my way,

That made his temper go astray.

He told the world it wasn’t true— The fault was mine, and not his view.

When whispers spread with twisted lies,

They used my name—no goodbyes.

A scapegoat made for every crime, A tale retold a hundred times.

I longed to learn, to read, to grow, Yet chains of fate had made it slow. He stole my peace, my books, my light,

Still, I held on through endless night.

They mocked my skin, they called me dumb,

Yet knowledge made my spirit numb

To all their hate, their words unkind—

For strength was forged within my mind.

And now they see, they bow, they praise,

The one they scorned in childhood days.

No past regret, no bitter hate—

For I have walked my destined fate.

So hear me now, let none decide The path you walk, the dream you ride.

Through darkest storms, let courage burn—

No chains can hold the hearts that yearn.

Poem by Akila Victoria Martin