"STILL I BLoom" Poem
“STIll I BLoom”
By Shamika Pompey
They buried me deep in the soil of shame,
With charges I didn’t earn and a name they tried to maim.
Eight years of shadow hung over my sky,
But truth broke through — and still, I survived.
Two weeks later, the rain fell harder still,
I lost mama — and the will
To smile without guilt, to breathe without pain,
But even in sorrow, I watered my name.
I planted my hands in the garden of care,
Kept being a social worker — I was already there.
I grew from the broken, the battered, the scarred,
And built bridges of hope from my own shattered parts.
But weeds can grow where roses should rise,
From Raleigh-Winston-Charlotte, I faced gaslight and lies.
They denied me sunlight, accommodations, peace,
Tried to choke my spirit like roots in disease.
I was the gardener, the soil, the bloom —
Doing jobs while they plotted my doom.
They pulled up my petals, then blamed me for falling,
Filed lies like seeds, kept injustice crawling.
Then came the day I was framed by a door,
Falsely accused, silenced once more.
But witnesses stood, and so did I —
They can’t kill a bloom that’s destined to rise.
I faced them again, as they dragged me through mud,
But I came with truth flowing deep in my blood.
Compensation denied — then overturned,
They learned: this flower had thorns they hadn’t discerned.
Tried to erased my worth, tried to defame my grace,
But they couldn’t uproot my sacred space.
I bloom for the women who whisper in fear,
Who’ve been told they don’t matter — I’m standing right here.
This isn’t just grief; it’s composted pain,
Turned into blossoms in sunshine and rain.
With every loss, I plant something new,
A garden of healing where survivors break through.
So I till, I sow, I rise from the gloom —
I am Shamika. And still, I bloom.
#DomesticViolenceSurvivor #StillIBloom #BlackGirlHealing #GardensGrowJustice #purpleforpower
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The purple represents domestic violence, the bars symbolize my freedom, and the flowers show I've thrived despite challenges.