Woke is an understatement of my awareness
Heightened senses bleed into the recesses of my my mind
No sleep for the wicked was the most ingenious rhyme
Stepping into the crowd trying to blend in hoping not to be seen
The spotlight beams nearly blinding I duck and hide
The masses point me out giving me up without a second thought
I look down at my feet shifting and my palms sweating
I didn\'t ask for these gifts and talents nor did I ever want to feel special
I swallow my fears and push the doubts no scream no shouts
I raise my right fist the people stare I raise it higher and match their glares
I am a proud black woman hear.. me .. roar
We will not be quiet anymore