In your mind you conclude that
'this one is a dried bone'.
And you look at me as if am alone,
But i have got back bone that makes
I rise! for i am the glittering shining rising star.
I am the African sunrise
I am the future surprise
I am the poetic merchandise
The most wanted prejudice
The lightening ink that thunders rebuke
At your envious heart.
I am the black talking drum,
Talking, making sense as in twisting
Your brain until it starts learning to make sense.
Does my boldness frighten you?
Why restless when am stress less?
Why do you freeze when i breeze in?
You device means to see am falling
But if i fall i will rise more rooted,
Sure footed, like a tree in the swamp.
Till tomorrow or even till i finally mellow
However, i rise.
Though is not by my strength, i'm only a serving vessel.
Out of thatch huts and bamboo fence
Emerged the future modeling art.
Banana boy from hot black soil,
To become a glorious star.
Who cares if you like it or doubt it or not to admit
That my prophetic poetic tonic makes your brain
Charge like alcoholic toxic.
However, i rise...
I rise like a balloon going high high...
Like Maya Angelou,
I rise! i rise! !