Roar, oh child, born in the night
Of oppression and bondage.
Roar high, yelling out your pain,
As you wiggle and scar your
Wrists against the heavy chains,
Place upon you because of your gender,
A danger for some, so afraid of your
Greatness that they build boxes to lock
You in in, bend you in, break you in,
Make you small and twisted, half of what
You could be, so they can stand tall
And be no afraid of all you would be,
Had you been born free.
So roar, child, high and might,
And awaken the uncaring and the ignorant
And the fearful and the mad.
Give them no peace, no truce,
No quiet place where they can forget
The abuse of you. Embed yourself in their
Eyes, in their ears, in their mind, your
Roar demanding more than a passing nod,
A breaking of the endless night,
A dawn without chains where you
Are free to choose, to decide,
To fully embody the greatness of
Yourself with all your possibilities.