From chains that bound, my journey unfurled,
In the crucible of hardship, an American swirl.
Not defined by the auctioneer's call,
But by resilience rising, standing tall.
I am not American by a master's decree,
But by the spirit of endurance, forever free.
In the cotton fields, where sorrows sowed,
Roots of strength in struggle glowed.
I am the rhythm of labor, the hymn of the oppressed,
A legacy of resilience, in every heartbeat expressed.
Through the pain, a melody arose,
A testament to triumph, where freedom grows.
Not by the color of chains, but by dreams untold,
In the struggle for justice, my story unfolds.
I am an American, not by captive fate,
But by breaking chains, refusing to abate.
In the echoes of ancestral cries, a nation's song,
I find my voice, where I truly belong.
Not defined by shadows of a dark past,
But by the light of hope, forever cast.
I am an American, not by scars that remain,
But by the strength to rise, break every chain.
In the mosaic of unity, our stories entwine,
An American legacy, resilient and divine.
Thursday, November 30, 2023
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