In the heart of a West-Indian home,  

Where spices swirl and stories roam,  

A girl with dreams beneath the sun,  

Learned the weight of battles not yet won.  

Voices strong, yet often stern,  

Taught her lessons she had to learn.  

To weave her thoughts in silken threads,  

While navigating paths where silence spreads.  

She watched the men, the world’s parade,  

In suits of power, their voices laid,  

Yet in her heart, a fire burned bright,  

A beacon of hope in the thick of night.  

With ink and dreams, she crafted her art,  

Anime visions, a fierce beating heart,  

In a field where shadows often loom,  

She carved out spaces, filled them with bloom.  

Each stroke a defiance, each frame a stand,  

For young girls dreaming in this distant land,  

She draws their stories, their voices unheard,  

In every sketch, she plants a word.  

Struggles like storms, they rattle the core,  

Yet she stands firm, always wanting more,  

Navigating tides that threaten to drown,  

She wears her courage like a crown.  

So here’s to the girl who dreams with intent,  

Whose spirit ignites and whose heart is bent,  

On forging a path where her sisters can thrive,  

In a world redefined, where their voices come alive.  

Beneath the mango tree, she’ll plant her feet,  

With each challenge faced, she knows she’s complete,  

For the future’s a canvas, her story’s a spark,  

Lighting the way through the shadowy dark.