Born By Herself

Born By Herself
by Bryanna (8th grade)

I was born with death close by waiting,
but not today I say.
I was born poor with tags on my back but knowledge in my head.
I was born to be an hourglass.
As I pour out, I watch man wither away into nothingness scattered across all seven continents.
I was born a jewel covered by the cool earth,
hiding me from the hungry and vicious that may seek me.
I was born to the blood-stained sidewalks of Brooklyn,
that is where I have seen my story.
I was born to always be one with my roots, so that I will never forget.
I was born to…believe…to fly…be me.
I was born.


So Much Depends on Stretching Your Positivity
IS392, Brooklyn, NY
Melanie Maria Goodreaux,  writer‐in‐residence


'Born By Herself' have 1 comment

  1. March 31, 2018 @ 5:57 pm Karen Lewis

    so much depends on young writers and their pencils and their dreams…powerful and inspiring poem


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