Still I Rise

You may write me down in history.

 With your bitter, twisted lines,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I will rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

' Cause I walk like I have got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I rise.