So then we ask, would heaven really accept men like us?
And the women among us, the women like us,
Been poor is condemnation to hell, in our part of the world
It is the bitter truth about life, so many to live in penury
All the days of their lives, while some, even if they runaway
From labour, the worldly wealth is all theirs
And so we ask again, what manner of life we live in
A life where some will call God, but he won't anwer,
Where some do not even remember him, yet he is ever with them
A life where till end of their days, they will sek God, but they won't find him
While some, on their deathbed they call God and he hears them,
A life where we fear poverty, and forget destiny, for we are but a
Number of days, like the birds of the air, we roam searching for
What isn't lost.....
A life where some will seek health with thier wealth yet they never find
Where the dead mourn the dead...be not afraid our time will come too! ! !
A life where we wish we hadn't been born.
A life where you smile a minute, and wipe your face the next hour...
A life where our vain glory is splitted
For some, they smile only for the morning
For some, only during the noon
For some, only at the night of their life,
Yet for some, from their beginning to the end,
Still for some, they don't even know the meaning of joy....
It only comes to them in dreams......
Its still the same life, we live, where we are not thankful for.
One thing is then sure, Death, it comes for us all, with its icy hand,
To pluck us off the big tree of life, wealth isn't sure, even though the Christlike followers say,
Gods hands isn't so short to lift us up.....
The Muslim folks will say,
Nasrun Min Allah...victory is from God
Kareem Itunu Azeez
Topic(s) of this poem: poems