I use to love her,
And call her FRIEND.
Before she became a self righteous bitch.
She preached often, during the daylight hours.
Forgetting her favorite past time night hobbies.
She wore the veil,
Long and loose.
Kind of like her.
The HER I remember.
Draped in black.
Her soul as black as the garment she wares.
As though suddenly she’s purified of her past wrong doings.
Projecting her many insecurities
And self hatred
How quick she is to cast the first stone.
I guess turning a new leaf,
Involves turning a blind eye.
What was then,
Has no bearing on what is now.
How silly she is,
Seems and sounds.
When she appoints herself
As my judge, jury and executioner.
So righteous she stands,
Tall and mighty.
As though she has the power
And not GOD almighty.
What happened to only GOD can judge me?
Your tired favorite line.
To excuse you’re many years,
Of many bullshits.
Than you have the audacity to look at me
And judge ME?
I would say it’s like the kettle calling the pot black.
But that would somehow imply that you and I are cut from the same cloth.
Inhibit the same manner.
Or journeyed the same path.
And clearly that’s NOT the case.
But nonetheless I loved you.
DID NOT JUDGE YOU!
And called you FRIEND once.
Before you became a self righteous BITCH.
This piece has no bearing and is not intended for all the wonderful Muslim woman who cover (Hijab) and make us proud. This piece is dedicated to all the self righteous, know it all BITCH'S out there.
Copyright © 2009