Pious Poet

Sabr

Sometimes she can’t sleep sometimes she misses home
Reminiscing back to when she was eleven years old
As a little girl day dreaming of a stove
That came with the white picket fence and a home
Back then life was so much easy for her
Now she’s married to a man that be beating on her
Hot headed with a cold heart replaced by an icebox
The sister stood by his side praying that it might stop
She had so much patience for him
Short temper mixed with long drinks let out his jinn
Her friends asked about her bruises so she started to use make up
With Fabricated smiles and excuses that were made up
The harder he would hit her the stronger she would love her man
And never ever once though about another man
Fessibiallah she was grateful for what she had
Plus she was used to abuse growing up watching her dad

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She waits for him

She waits for him. She knows he will come. She knows that he is simply caught up somewhere, distracted, and, eventually, he will come for her.

Maybe he is still at work, chatting with his colleagues. Perhaps he has gone to visit his mother, or taken his sister a gift. Probably he has stayed at the masjid to pray extra prayers. Wherever he is now, she knows that he will come for her.

Because she made him angry today.

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