Inspired by Maya Angelou's Poem 'Still I Rise'

I've been stomped on
Trod on, beat down, turned 'round
And my hands can barely take more cracks
As my blue veins have turned orange
But no matter.

I'll rise.

I've been bugged out,
called out, laughed at, spat at
And my tears no longer produce salt
As I've cried them all dry
And the heat readiating from my trying heart
Has evaporated it all
But no matter.

I'll rise.

I once bent so low
my head reached the ground
on the opposite end of earth.

I know stretch so high and mighty
That my fingertips brush the stars
and perminetly turn my ring finger gold.

And the rythem of my ancestors
The Djembe, the Bata, the Dundun speak to me clearly now
My feet throb with each proud hit of the drum.
Making my orange blood pure silver.
My hands glow like moonlight.