Pont Your Finger

You point your finger, quiet irate, just because I come from an Islamic state,

Is it me that you fear, or are your prejudices built upon the media intake,

People wonder at what I wear, there are no offers of a seat for me to share,

I cannot stand this at any rate, just because I am from a Muslim state,

You would have thought I was going to blow myself away for a radical stray.

Every day I commute, standing strong and quiet astute, but still you look,

Your finger almost instinctively points my way as I look away,

Islam has become the sacred way, for every fanatical extremist way,

With a heavy heart I leave the train, Islam and Asian man does not equate,

To a terrorist of the state, open your eyes and you will see only me.

I will never be an English rose, accepted by all I suppose, but please don’t point,

I just want you for one second, to consider how it hurts, with your stares so abrupt,

Your comments are unjust and I hear you all making a fuss with the media bus,

Islam my friend, will forgive you all, that’s the meaning of it all,

Don’t point your finger, don’t say those words as I am a friend after all.