A Child with a Dream (Poem for Black Hoopers)

There are stars shining in your eyes.

Energy and greatness flow from the mind.

Through the heart, a simple glow.

Dancing for a new truth.

Finding us chained to horror and tragedies.

Some abandoned and others disappearing.

Cleaning our roots of solitude.

Maybe its warmth is comforting than most ideals.

The child with a dream.

To play in an arena full of glory and fight.

While speaking of potential medals.

Rewards inspiring young and old.

Together woven into story tales.

The fairytales of our imagination.

How we skip and hop beyond the clouds.

Shouting "AND1!" with our smiling melanin.

Dangling beads and braids.

Powerful strands flowing in the wind.

Entering the doors of reality.

Did they judge me for my darken fists and lips?

Or suppose my voice was of shocking elegance to their ears?

They expected a stereotype.

And they were wrong.

They were fooled.

And now, some feel threatened.

That a body was fully grown into self-love.

Beyond any form of envy.

Walking and talking with confidence.

Expressive personality.

Aware of the history in their blood.

And the opened windows of opportunity.

Even when they seemed locked.

There is more than just how we look, feel, or touch.

It is the cycle of learning and changing our minds.

Reminding ourselves that every obstacle.

Every heartbreak or pain with no justification.

Is a sign of how powerful you truly are. 

And that is the dream.

That is the child within us.

A life that is infinite.

Photo Credit: Melisa Treesa Godfreyson (Pexels)