I am dark red
blood coming
from my family
and country.

I am a sad girl
who was only a
baby when she
saw a war.

I am a sad girl
from where gangsters
came at night
and stole what-
ever they wanted.

I am a girl
who hasn’t
seen her country
But I am also
a mother who
tells her daughter
about her country.

I am a place
where people
like to eat meat, and
I am a country
where some
people sell
fruits in the street.

I am a girl
with mysteries
behind a door that
I don’t
know about.

I am as
big as I can
be and
small.

I am a mango-
eating machine.

I am Somalian as
Somalian I am.

by Fatima, 6th Grade