Mocked and jeered at,
discriminated and sneered at,
abused and refused,
running scared and alone
no mercy was ever shown.
I was hung, drawn and quartered,
found guilty, I was slaughtered,
the worst type of crime
had I committed in recent times.
If it is my fate, then why should I hate?
But tell me how is it fair,
at my dignity their claws tear;
until I am naked and bleeding –
damage done, they are receding.
Faces aghast, they stare, when it’s too late they care.
For I am no longer me,
mangled, crippled, unable to see
they have broken me so –
what was my crime, you probably want to know?
I had hope, I believed –
when they raped my sisters I grieved,
but I still had faith and smiled,
this made them feel riled.
They murdered my brothers and lied,
denying blame, and I cried
telling me, they were helping me.
All because I wanted to be free,
to follow my own path and the divine decree.
To be good and pure
and loving and kind,
but their hatred made them blind.
They murdered me like so many others,
sisters, husbands, mothers, fathers, brothers;
all because they had committed the worst crime,
being Muslim: the worst crime of all time.
‘Copyright by Single Muslim Mums’