This A Reflection

This Is A Reflection

We will not forget

History repeats in disguises

We still here, We're still rising

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I been sittin' with the weight of generations on my chest,

Tryna breathe through the echoes of a people never blessed,

But always chosen —

A lineage forged in fire, yet never broken.

This ain't just history...

This is **testimony**.

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We the children of the chains they tried to tighten on our wrists,

But we turned that iron into **resilience**, Webster calls it "the ability to recover quickly,"

And Lord knows we had to.

mmm

mmm

Still here, Still rising

We the chosen

We the prophecy

Still Here....

Still Here....

Four hundred years of "subjugation" —

A word meaning *forced control*,

But we flipped that definition,

Turned oppression into soul.

From the fields to the factories,

From the marches to the mic,

We been fighting for our breath

In a world that feared our light.

They called us less than human,

But our **fortitude** — "strength of mind that enables courage" —

Made liars out of every system built to bury us.

We ain't vanish.

We ain't perish.

We **flourished**.

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This is a reflection,

Of a people still rising,

Still fighting,

Still shining through the violence.

We carry every ancestor in our stride,

Every tear, every prayer, every dream they were denied.

This is a reflection...

Of a people still rising.

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They say "Why you still talk about it?"

Because the wounds ain't healed,

Because the names still echo on asphalt and fields.

Because justice ain't equal,

Because truth ain't convenient,

Because history ain't distant —

It's breathing in every Black boy's heartbeat.

We seen viruses, violence,

Systems built in silence,

Policies disguised as progress

But rooted in defiance

Of our humanity.

But hear me:

Fear ain't our foundation —

**Perseverance** is.

Webster defines it as "continued effort despite difficulty,"

And that's us —

Every Sunday choir note,

Every grandmother's prayer,

Every father's warning,

Every mother's stare that says,

"Baby, come home safe."

We ain't paranoid —

We aware.

We educated.

We vigilant.

We alive.

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This is a reflection,

Of a people still rising,

Still fighting,

Still shining through the violence.

We carry every ancestor in our stride,

Every tear, every prayer, every dream they were denied.

This is a reflection...

Of a people still rising.

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We ain't victims —

We victors in slow motion.

We the ocean —

Deep, ancient, unbroken.

We the rhythm of the drum,

The prophecy of the tongue,

The story of a people

Who refuse to be undone.

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So when I speak on struggle,

It ain't to stay in pain —

It's to honor every ancestor

Who survived in our name.

It's to say:

We still here.

We still brilliant.

We still building.

We still healing.

We still rising —

Not by permission,

But by **birthright**.

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This is a reflection...

Of a people still rising.

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