From Labeled to Purpose

Yeah. They stitched labels on me before I learned my name.

Bad kid, lost cause, kid from hell, the world lit that flame.

Couldn't sit still, mind racing like a storm that never slept. Teachers shook their

heads, wrote me off, watched me take each step. I was chubby

different, easy target for the sly grin. Boys whispering knives that made my

fists begin to spin. Every swing was a prayer, every bruise a

secret note. I learned to fight out loud 'cause nobody heard what I wrote.

Suspension stacked like trophies I never wanted to own. Office chairs, disappointed eyes,