Still I Rise, Still I Run

Risk - what is it, but a leap through the unknown,

Trading comfort for a life that could be our own.

Packed the bags, the plan was tight,

Months in motion, chasing what felt right.

Miles behind, dreams up ahead,

Thought there'd be shelter, a place to rest our head.

But doors closed fast, and trust fell flat,

No arms outstretched, no "we got your back."

Back against the wall, no time to stall,

Thought I'd rise but literally lost it all.

Hot summer nights in a car seat bed,

Thoughts and fear inside the head,

Child asks, "Where are we going now?"

Swallowed hard - yet figured out somehow.

Jobs applied, resumes praised,

But silence came in echoing waves.

Degrees and certifications, rejection even higher,

Told I was perfect, but not the one they'd hire.

Free hotel lobbies, food court lights,

Public restrooms, casino nights.

Mobile apps just to eat a meal,

Learning how to stretch every dollar into a deal.

Bird baths and battery packs,

Zeroed-out cards, no room to relax.

Never thought it would look like this,

A life built on plans that somehow missed.

Still, I moved - because stopping meant death,

Of the dream, of the drive, of purpose, of breath.

And even when nothing made sense,

I stood on the cracks, became my defense.

Had to go back, head bowed low,

To the place I swore I had outgrown.

Living with family, but feeling erased,

Like everything done was just a waste.

But then - something whispered, not from above,

Not faith, not fate, but self-made respect and love.

Maybe this loss, this fall from grace,

Is just a detour, not a last place.

Because I didn't quit, even when I cried,

Even when every single dream damn near died.

Society judge, said I should be fine,

But never knew the battles behind my line.

I did all the things they said would save,

College, jobs, clean record, played brave.

Even tried the military route - denied.

More rules followed, more tears I cried.

But there's a fire that doesn't quit,

Even buried under layers of all this shit.

It says "Get up. Don't let this be the end,"

So I rise again, broke but not bent.

They wanted me to stay down, dim my flame,

But I came back louder, not the same.

Now I move with wisdom, earned not bought,

With lessons failure brutally taught.

No one knows what tomrrow will bring,

But I've heard silence, and I've felt its sting.

Still I write, because the past won't last,

And even this storm will soon be the past.

The life I see, I know is mine,

Built not on hope, but grit and time.

They said I'd lose - but I've just begun,

I'm not done. Still I rise, still I run.