There are days
When I look at the week before me
And only see the list of things
To be completed and checked of
No joy, simply a methodical process
I call life
But I had an exam this week
For dance not school
A change in the schedule
Stressful, yes
But also an accomplishment greater than my average week
And as I came out of the exam
I remembered why I put myself through hours of rehearsal each week
Because when I perform
I am alive
I am full of an energy
High on the sense of pride and self-esteem I don't feel any other time
Feeling like, for a moment, I can do anything
It doesn't last all that long
But that's is okay
Because now I've remembered
And I won't forget again

She leans over the stick,
Hefting her full weight and thumping
     --step by step--
across the room.

Once, she used to gallop lightly.
She ran track,
             played basketball.
She always assumed that life would bring her
marvelous deeds,
That time would equate to glory and fame.
But the clock ticked the minutes away.
             Days passed,
                 Years flew by.

Glory and fame never came.

Instead, age crippled her once lithe body.
And the deeds she accomplished were wondrous only to her own
             Failing
                 Eyes.
For she rejoiced every time she made it,
--step by step--
Cane in hand,
             Across the room.

Maybe people did not realize what they had done.
The ****** of the people and their hope.
Africans are no different, so why were they treated as such?
It's better now! Tables with no signs that say,
"White Only."
Benches for everyone to use. One drinking fountain instead of two:
One on each side of the building.
One in the same!
And college, striving for a better future
Is an option.
Now, was that so hard?