Still I Rise
Maya Angelou, 1928 - 2014
You may write me down in history With your bitter, twisted lies, You may trod me in the very dirt But still, like dust, Iâll rise. Does my sassiness upset you? Why are you beset with gloom? âCause I walk like Iâve got oil wells Pumping in my living room. Just like moons and like suns, With the certainty of tides, Just like hopes springing high, Still Iâll rise. Did you want to see me broken? Bowed head and lowered eyes? Shoulders falling down like teardrops, Weakened by my soulful cries? Does my haughtiness offend you? Donât you take it awful hard âCause I laugh like Iâve got gold mines Digginâ in my own backyard. You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, Iâll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like Iâve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of historyâs shame I rise Up from a past thatâs rooted in pain I rise Iâm a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak thatâs wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise.
