Grade Seven

The blood of my brothers was spilled

On the far away Afghanistan shore

Now their corpses are silent and still

And their names are not used anymore

So careful to not let any skin show

Women there once again have to dress

Covered from head to toe

And female education has quickly regressed

Today I sat writing on a park bench

Happily immersed in midsummer delight

I saw a sight that made my teeth clench

A girl whose situation just didn’t seem right

She had to be close to nineteen

Had a baby boy close to a year

In that loveliness of shimmering green

She looked so lovely as she drew near

All but her face was covered

She was radiant, but so out of place

So young to make babies and mother

Like she wasn’t a full part of the human race

I often am too quick to judge

And different people have their own ways

I could see that her young child was loved

And a sweet smile was upon her face

But since the Afghanistan mission pulled out

Females there no longer go past the sixth grade

I want to protest, go to rallies and shout

The country lost the precious freedoms we gave