Winter Doesn’t Love Me


Winter doesn’t love me

I was born in spring’s lap

Growing up I had toys. And I had books.

And I had crayons to colour the world with.

And I cycled in the summer streets

Which were filled with games and laughter of children

Not war cries or sounds of soldiers marching

 

Winter doesn’t love me

I never heard a knock on my door

And feared for the life of someone I loved

I never watched my father leave for work

Without knowing if he would be back in time for dinner.

I never stood for hours in a long line

For a loaf of bread or a new pair of shoes.

 

Winter doesn’t love me

I never wore

Anything that told the world what Gods my ancestors worshipped

Winter doesn’t love me

I never saw a war-torn nation

I never saw a city bombed and a million people die

 

Winter doesn’t love me

I was never told

That I had to learn to cook and clean and mop

And have a strong and healthy body to bear a lot of little boys

Winter doesn’t love me

I could choose

To be anything I wanted to be as I grew up

I could choose to wear a skirt and high heels

And be friends with whoever I liked

 

Winter doesn’t love me

I never had to scream out for hours

To block the noises of women being raped and families torn apart

I never had to see a little child die

Along with the dreams that lit up his eyes

Winter doesn’t love me

I never saw a man half-dragged down the road

Trying to clutch an extra pair of pants in his hand

Or the photograph his wife hurriedly thrust into his arms

While his daughter cried

I never had to be that daughter

 

Winter doesn’t love me

What can I say?

I am the summer of dreams

I am the summer of all movies and songs

I sat in a classroom wondering what sixty years could do

As I plodded through algebra and physics

But the answer I didn’t hear then was right inside me.

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5 thoughts on “Winter Doesn’t Love Me

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