a poem for Miss Maya

She quieted herself

Her words were cursed after all

The difference between life and death

Coming alive only in her thoughts

As she dived through pages and pages of the “colored books”

And the white ones too…

Shushing herself in every other way

That is…until she met poetry

And longed to taste how it rolled off her tongue

And flowed through her lips

So under that house, she spoke

And from then on, the world listened…

As she sang

Gazed, as she danced

Dazed by her stature and the strength of her voice

The words she carried were heavy

She must have had a body-builder of a mind to carry them

Maybe it was exercise to her when she performed

Miss Maya…

Demanded the respect she worked hard to achieve

Used her words to free as she marched the streets

An activist

Actively changing the world around her through her words

They spoke blessings after all

And her legacy speaks loudly

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