I’ve sipped from empty cups too long,
Been told to wait, to play it safe,
To shrink my voice, to just belong—
But silence never saved the brave.

They fed me crumbs, called it enough,
Said, “Be polite, don’t reach too far,”
I smiled through hunger, swallowed tough,
And wore my limits like a scar.

                                                                                    No more!

Now every glass I drink runs dry,
Each breath, each step, a loud declare:
I don’t want little. Don’t ask why.
I want it all. I want my share.

I’m learning things I used to crave,
Like Spanish words and how to play.
I’m not the one I used to save —
I take back power every day.

I play, I fight, I win, I lose,
But I don’t flinch and I don’t break.
I choose my path. I get to choose
What’s mine to give, what I won’t take.

I won’t be told “be less” again,
Or dimmed to suit a safer crowd.
I’ve paid my quiet years in pain —
Now I am here, and I am loud.

I’m not content with “just enough,”
With scraps of joy or second place.
No gold-star grin, no sugar bluff
Will ever tame my honest face.

I want to build with my own hands,
Make moments last, take every dare.
No more regret, no list of can'ts —
I want it all. And I don’t care

If it looks messy, raw, too much.
At least it’s real. At least it’s mine.
I’ve earned the right to feel and touch
A life that doesn’t toe the line.

So hear this now — if you’ve been small,
If you’ve been told to wait your turn:
This world has room for you to sprawl,
To hunger loud, to leap, to burn.

Say what you mean. Demand your part.
Don’t let them shrink what’s in your chest.
Go live, go fall in love, make art.
                                                                                 You want it all?
Then take the rest!