They call her rebel, loud and wild,
But in her chest beats a dreaming child
Who sees the world not as it is,
But as it could be, made from this.
With every step upon the street,
She plants a fire beneath her feet.
Each word she speaks, a spark, a flame
Each silence broken, not in vain.
She lifts her voice for those unheard,
Her weapon: truth, her shield: a word.
Where systems crack and justice sleeps,
She sows a promise that she keeps.
The sky may darken, storms may rise,
But she walks on with lifted eyes
For in her palms, calloused but kind,
She carries hope for humankind.
Not just for now, but years ahead
A world where none are left for dead.
Where skin or love or name or place
Don’t write your worth or steal your grace.
So call her fighter, call her flame,
But history will know her name.
The one who stood, the one who stayed
Who lit the path when others prayed.
©yuri222
S