She Was Lost… But She Rises
She was lost, the sister,
Between pots and pans,
In children’s scribbled homework,
And nights too short,
Where her breath turned into silence.
She was lost,
In eyes that did not see,
In voices that demanded more,
Under the weight of a world
That whispered: Be strong, always strong.
But listen —
A woman is not born to vanish
In the dust of others’ needs.
A woman is a drum,
A woman is a flame,
A woman is a song that defies the cage.
So she went searching.
And when at last she found herself,
She said:
No, I will not carry the universe
On my tired shoulders.
She said:
I will no longer be the shadow
Of someone else’s dream.
She said:
I am me.
Determined.
Resolute.
Free.
Look at her.
She no longer apologizes for being.
She walks with the assurance of the sun.
She knows tomorrow is not promised.
She embraces today as a miracle.
And when she smiles,
The whole world learns a truth:
The woman who rises,
Is a living poem.
