July 25, 2009
By InkBlot BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
InkBlot BRONZE, Chicago, Illinois
2 articles 3 photos 0 comments

I am an Eskimo
Look at my toughened skin
My half-shut eyes fading out the withering scene
I live in an igloo
It drips icicles on exposed flesh
So cold it smolders the wasting particles
The chill that sweeps into the household
Is an icy Alaskan breeze
Everyone magnetized to their silent corners
Please be quiet because the baby's sleeping
His proud fleshy fist and loud ardent cry
Is all the Papa really cares about enough
To sigh,
He is satisfied
But he does not care for
Sister and I
The signs that mark us of our sex
Earn us the reputation of adverse specs
To him, in his mind, we are $1, breakable accessories
No love rides on this icy Alaskan breeze
My half shut eyes fade out the withering scene
This girl is an Afghan born Eskimo queen.

The author's comments:
This is inspired by a book I read about a girl struggling through the sexism during the Taliban reign in Afghanistan.

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