The Journey Within
I carry the weight of unspoken names,
ancestors carved in the marrow of me.
Chains once bound them, yet their spirit still walks,
pressing my steps with a rhythm of fire.
The mirror does not reflect only my face,
it holds centuries of silence and struggle.
Songs in languages stolen yet remembered,
rise in my chest like thunder after rain.
I walk between worlds that do not see me whole,
a stranger marked by the color of my skin.
Their gaze is a wall I cannot climb through,
yet I plant roots that crack its foundation.
Hope is not fragile, it is rebellion,
stitched in a cloth by my grandmother’s hands.
Every breath I take is survival’s hymn,
every stride a bridge to what was denied.
The journey within is to claim my truth,
to stand unbroken in a fractured world.
And in my veins, their courage speaks again:
“You are the dream we refused to surrender.”
Copyright © Garty Bowersox | Year Posted 2025
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