I am standing and looking at this Muslim woman, Shrouds of material draping her face,
She’s all covered up, and I think, “What a sin”,
She doesn’t even have her own space!
She’s told what to do,
And who she should talk to,
She can’t leave her home,
And she seems so alone.
Her clothes look so plain,
She must be boiling in this summer heat,
I think she’s insane,
How can she walk like this on the street?
Poor Muslim woman, I think,
As I look at her, she doesn’t even blink,
She’s so oppressed, in need of care,
This Muslim woman, at which I now stare!
I look deeper in her eyes,
And transfix my gaze,
As these thoughts of before,
Float through my mind,
My newfound courage, getting stronger, I find,
And as I look in the mirror,
I now see ME,
A Muslim woman I am, and still I am ME.
I don’t feel oppressed or alone,
I choose how I dress,
I am respected and cared for, only kindness am I shown,
And my life is no longer a mess.
Things are now clear,
Only Allah do I fear,
And as I see people staring at me as they go by,
I just wish that they could understand why!