You will not know what your mothers and your grandmothers knew;
you will not know how they fought with no true hope for their own salvation.
You will not know how they cursed and kicked to make a better world.
A world that would honor
your mind, your ambition, your desire
to be something more
than a servant, a subject, a decoration.
How they clawed and they
fought to build a world where
you could be human.
You will not recognize their grief and
pride when you stand up,
and accept what was impossible for them as your due.
You will not recognize it.
You will not remember it.
But you will live it.
When you fight for your own
daughters and grand-daughters,
and see them one step higher on the spiral.
One step closer to unquestioned,
How tall is the stair?