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The Exhausted Eskimo
I am the exhausted eskimo
I waddle around like a penguin
Wander in a pack like a wolf
And kill like a praying mantis
My friends and I speak a different language
Yet we have so much in common
We survive, we sleep, and we sing
Sing so loud we could cause an avalanche
There are only three things in this world that can make an eskimo cry: feeling happiness, experiencing loss, and peering at the sun.
But sometimes I’m thankful for this
Because only in the cold, can you feel the warmth
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This is the first poem I have ever written.