Often times when I was younger and bullied, I never had the courage, nor the words, to stand up for myself. I would accept the abuse sent my way with a nod of my head and the lowering of my eyes, attempting to fight off any tears that threatened to slip out. I refused to be called weak, even though I felt otherwise - for I'd always want to run home and curl up in my mother's arms. And I often wondered if I'd make it through my teen years, if I would give up and let the words win. I'd often sink into a depression so deep and dark that not even my love for words could help me.
But here I am, finally living my dream as a college student, preparing for the future I only ever dreamed of having. And the following poem is my answer to the years of torture, not just for myself, but for others as well.
I have no secrets
I have no lies
I have no tricks
But I have a will
And I have a way
So I will succeed
I have no muscles
I have no brain
I have no heart
But I have a goal
And I have a path
So there is no stopping me
I have a future
I have a dream
I have a plan
But I have no honesty
And I have no fight
So who will get in my way?
So when will the judgment stop?
When can I walk or talk
When can I laugh or cry
When can I love or hate
And not be a fool?
When am I free to be me?
What day?
What age?
What time?
What year?
Why must I fear my most basic right?
Why must I hide the person inside?
Tell me who declared you boss
Tell me who made these rules
Tell me so I can raise hell
Tell me
Because I will not quit
For I have a life.
So there you have it. Words for a past of many, the future of some, and the present of millions.
Good luck.





















