In Memory of the Victims and Families of the 7th July 2005 Bombings in London

victim_wall_976x634 (1)


Lee Baisden (34)

Benedetta Ciaccia (30)

Richard Ellery (21)

Richard Gray (41)

Anne Moffat (48)

Fiona Stevenson (29)

Carrie Taylor (24)

Edgware Road:

Michael Stanley Brewster (52)

Jonathan Downey (34)

David Graham Foulkes (22)

Colin William Morley (52)

Jennifer Vanda Nicholson (24)

Laura Webb (29)

Russell Square:

James Adams (32)

Samantha Badham (35)[9]

Phillip Beer (22)

Anna Brandt (41)

Ciaran Cassidy (22)

Elizabeth Daplyn (26)

Arthur Frederick (60)

Emily Jenkins (24)

Adrian Johnson (37)

Helen Jones (28)

Karolina Gluck (29)

Gamze Gunoral (24)

Lee Harris (30)[9]

Ojara Ikeagwu (56)

Susan Levy (53)

Shelley Mather (25)

Michael Matsushita (37)

James Mayes (28)

Behnaz Mozakka (47)

Mihaela Otto (46)

Atique Sharifi (24)

Ihab Slimane (24)

Christian Small (28)

Monika Suchocka (23)

Mala Trivedi (51)

Rachell Chung For Yuen (27)

Tavistock Square:

Anthony Fatayi-Williams (26)

Jamie Gordon (30)

Giles Hart (55)

Marie Hartley (34)

Miriam Hyman (31)

Shahara Islam (20)

Neetu Jain (37)

Sam Ly (28)

Shayanuja Parathasangary (30)

Anat Rosenberg (39)

Philip Russell (28)

William Wise (54)

Gladys Wundowa (50)


You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may tread me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.

Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.

Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.

Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.

You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.

Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?

Out of the huts of history’s shame
I rise
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I rise
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
I rise
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
I rise
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.
I rise
I rise
I rise.

Maya Angelou

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