My Mirror
Look in the mirror
what do I see?
I try to figure out who that is
staring back at me.
She's a girl.
Maybe a woman?
They forget she is so much more.
In her eyes
I see strength
as well as the fear her heart stores.
Upon her head
her hair remains unclothed.
For she hides from those
who've never entered a mosque.
Her skin is painted
with the agony of her people.
Her soul is tainted
with the spite of those people.
Below her eyes
are the bags that she bear.
They loosely hold her studies
she will use to make them care.
That is if she becomes successful.
She sways back and forth in fright.
But I know she can better the world
as she works day and night.
My hand raises
to touch the mirror.
I know who she is.
I can see her.
A little rough around the edges
but I am pleased.
Indeed With Hardship, she will find,
Comes Ease.