I was once told, I am nothing.
Poor enough to not overcome my struggles.
I was told, I will never be someone, why?
Because my parents did not attend school?
Because why, l was not good at mathematics or accounting?
I was told, but I refused
I said, my life is not defined by what other people say to me.
I am me.
A beautiful yellow flower that blooms in spring.
I will rise from dust because my background does not define me.
I am a person of many talents.
I am a writer, and I write my own destiny.
I will rise from the shadows of poverty
And take my place in the world,
Because l believe it when they say,
“Destiny arrives all the same”