by Natalia Nwoko
She walks through a world that weighs her down,
Labeled, judged, and made to drown.
Her voice too loud, her skin too dark,
Too bold, too weak, too strong, too stark.
Told she must shrink, be soft, be small,
Yet carry the weight, yet do it all.
The glass above, the walls around,
Her worth debated, her hands still bound.
But listen now, the winds have turned,
The fire within her fiercely burns.
For she is not alone in fight—
A sister stands to share her light.
Black, brown, white, or golden hue,
Christian, Muslim, Sikh, or Jew,
Thick or thin, young or old,
Rich or poor—her hand she’ll hold.
No more battles fought alone,
No more tears that go unknown.
For when one woman stands to rise,
She lifts another toward the skies.
So hush the whispers, break the chains,
Erase the lines, dissolve the pain.
Together strong, together free—
This world belongs to you and me.