"You may write me down in history

With your bitter, twisted lies,

You may trod me in the very dirt

But still, like dust, I'll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?

Why are you beset with gloom?

'Cause I walk like I've got oil wells

Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Still I'll rise. I rise. I rise..."

by Maya Angelou

(just thought i'd share a portion of my favorite poem,

along with another sketch from my friend A. Shani.

sorry for recycling my recent foto, but it's hard to resist showing

my friend's beautiful interpretations! his aesthetic quality is

phenomenal!!)

so enjoy...