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My past just follows me. Incessantly,
It calls to me, breathing my name.
It haunts my every move.
Oppression is the name that I give to you.
You hold me down with chains you create.
You brought yourself this, not I.
I refuse to suffer this with you.
I shed that past, I don’t belong to you.
Your hunger and frenzy to convert me back,
I refuse. I will not be you.
And yes, we are similar.
But I don’t see the world through prejudiced eyes.
I allow my earthy skin to be soaked in.
Strong tree bark is my skin, free knife marks which are the words you use.
My sapling shape has a mountainous persona,
I am bigger than life.
I live in it,
I love it.
You hate me because of my pride.
You ask me this,
“What can you show fo it, you aint nothin.”
I might not be anything… yet, but I have goals,
Stereotypes of you don’t dare touch me.
Last time I checked, strong oaks can’t be molded like malleable clay.
I am going to be big and oppression, you won’t be an obstacle for me.