Spoken and written theories mock my existence.
Just to bring shame to my presence and to sabotage the streams of my promising tomorrow.
My existence is superior than all you know.
Beneath, I was placed by boiling hate of some.
Yet, my mightiness prevail even without being mined up. For I am, that can’t be destroyed.
In tides of pain I surf. Shoeless, I travel thorny jungles. With all the piercings and bleeding, still, I walk tall.
I am a light that shines bright under a basket.
A seed that bears fruits in the desert.
I am, but a diamond in the dirt.
In the absences of my shine, the world is nothing. Even hate knows it needs me. To mop its kitchens and nurse its children.