They judged my appearance, not my soul,
A story dismissed before it's even told, 
Their gazes like daggers, cutting deep within,
I stood alone and afraid, my confidence worn thin.

They would urge, "Go back," but this was my home,
The place where the dreams of my ancestors roamed,
Their hatred is loud, like an untamed storm, 
every insult ignites a spark that fuels my form.

But I discovered a strength born of suffering,
I sowed seeds of love for each differing,
Every scar a lesson, every wound a turn,
I walked through fire, yet I didn't burn.

I discovered how to stand when the world would judge,
and how to speak up, refusing to budge,
My roots run deep, unshakable, unseen, 
Within soil of trouble, to fields of dreams.

Now I rise, unchained, unbowed, 
with a voice like thunder, echoing loud,
My story is mine; I'll decorate each page,
A legacy built on affection, not rage.

The world may as well cast its stones, 
I'll build with them a house for my own,
Hate may linger, but it won't win,
What's important is beyond the skin.