Poetry

I look through history,
At all of the greats.
I then sort them all
And read only of my race.

Those who experienced
Pain and oppression.
Born in the Renaissance
And the Great Depression.

The struggles they’ve encountered, 
The bars they’ve set, 
The pride that they’ve had, 
The absence of regret, 
The words they’ve spoke, 
The lives they’ve changed, 
The followers they’ve had, 
The sacrifices they’ve made, 
The strength they’ve showed, 
The prestige they’ve held, 
The goals they’ve achieved, 
The way they’ve excelled.

We want a place with them, 
Our names next to theirs.
For we are all proud
To be our ancestor’s heirs.