Poetry: Who I Am
Out of the Sandbox July 20, 2016By Krystal Weldon
I am a story yet to be written.
A face never forgotten.
My exterior is as strong as steel.
While my interior is as soft as cotton.
My blood flows in mixtures that start at the top of the tree.
Ancestors had chronicles that eventually lead to the making of me.
They say strong words in a little girl such as I, then again sirens of ancient greece brought tenacious men down to their knees.
I am sexual revolution.
Dangerous, unknown the widespread youth pollution .
The civil rights next chapter of the movement.
Dr. King I am the living dream.
Maya Angelou I am that woman Phenomenally.
The strong Taíno roots my grandmother told me.
I am liberation the change in the social norm.
I live the words my lips form.
I am a religious debate.
One to express myself .
Nostradamus.
A prophecy of the next generation.
In a dawn of a new creation .
Who I am is more then meaning cause Im empathy more than words written down in poetry.
I’m light and darkness in a battle of good v.s evil.
Above average cause this girl is not most people!
Not a follower but a trend setter, staying unpredictable as the weather.
Everyday striving to get better,
What will be my legacy?
How will they remember me?
As a fighter ,a survivor, a mother and provider.
Not just Hispanic,lesbian,nor woman, but a human.
Someone who opened the doors for a younger crowd to step through.
What struggles I go through will be but history to you .
I will be but a picture in a book not their reality and that’s how it should be.
As her blood flows in mixtures I will be in the middle of her tree.
Chronicles that eventually lead to her story her legacy .
The fighter and my maybe she will be the one who remembers me!
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