I’m built from the dirt collected by the hard workers shoes
From the 6 am to 5 pm jobs
From the great grandpa that escaped political prison twice
From the grandpa that saved people from the concentration camps
From the grandma that didn’t allow me to watch Pocahontas
because it was historically inaccurate

I’m built from ash of the ever burning flame

From the grandma that got kicked out of high school for being pregnant
But then she came back and graduated college
I’m from my hard working mom,
Who never seems to get a break
I’m from my dad,
Who always has oil on his hands

When I got pushed on the ground,
There was a hand that helped me back up
When I got called slurs in the hallway,
I raised my head up high
I’m built from the jobs people don’t want
I’m built from the moths
That always go toward the flame,
Even if it will kill them
But alas,
I’m still last on the food chain