Many people judge me for what I wear

Many people judge my appearance

 

Many people stare, as I pass by on the sidewalk

or get on the bus,

And watch my every move

They observe my attire, including what I wear on my head

And already begin to assume,

that I am not one of them

 

Many are wary and many angry,

For something that I did not cause

They call me a danger, a terrorist  

To a society that prefers to follow outlaws

 

They mistake my peaceful attire, for a call to war

And misunderstand my religion,

They tell me it represents violence, with such precision

 

Many say it restricts me from being a woman

But if showing a part of me, may objectify my body

And wearing this “cloth” on my head forces you to see me as human

Then I think I prefer to stay the way I am

Because in the end,

What I choose to wear is my decision

 

They reprimand me for covering my body, yet insult

Those who choose not to

And tell me to “free my hair” from its restrictions

And yet tell women of many colors to straighten theirs-

So they can be accepted

I’m starting to think the people who say these

are those with the most insecurities

for it seems,

To me, they find hate in everything

 

Maybe one day, many people will see me for who I am

They won’t make irrational assumptions

And start to respect me for my beliefs and not hate for my differences

And maybe one day,

When people lose hate in their hearts and see love is the way

They will begin to judge me for what’s in my head and

Not what’s on it.