'I Rise' a poem by Charlotte-Lyn Brinkley

Eleven year old Romany Gypsy, Charlotte-Lyn Brinkley from Hertfordshire, shares a powerful poem she wrote for The Travellers' Times.

You may scar me with your racism with a terribly, dreadful disguise, 

You may beat me with your vicious, nasty words but still, like steam, I'll rise. 

Does my strength trouble you?  Why are you best friends with gloom?

Cause I saunter like I've got money In my own bedroom,

Just like flowers in spring, with the certainty of a prize, Just like light and dark still I'll rise. 

Do you want to see me shattered? Red faced and teardrops falling from my eyes?

Do you want to see me looking at the floor? Weakened by my emotional sighs?

Does my enthusiasm anger you? Don't treat it like it's doom,

cause I stroll like I've got diamonds in my massive living room. 

You may disable me with your violence, you may graze me with your eyes,

You may kill me with your annoyance, but still, like age, I'll rise. 

Out of history's flame,

I rise up from a past that's buried in shame,

I rise, I'm a destroying hurricane,

Powerful and strong, everything terrible has finally gone,

Leaving behind everything I break I rise,

Everything negative thrown in the lake I rise,

Bringing the talent my ancestors gave, I am the courage left by the slave,

I rise, I rise, I rise.

By Charlotte-Lyn Brinkley