I took my abaya,
My headscarf,
My socks,
Put them on,
And left the room.
I hurried downstairs,
And rushed towards the gate.
I knew it was suppose to be them,
Taking the parcel.
But little did I care,
To take it for them.
To help ease their day.
For I had always known,
That they were busy.
They were having a hard time,
So I took it for them.
Brought the parcel upstairs,
Without feeling a glimpse of hatred,
Nor anger.
For they are my friends,
That I shall cherish forever.
Though they had done nothing,
But the opposite.
I love them still.
Helped them still.
For I appreciate this friendship,
More than my ego.
YOU ARE READING
The Little Things
PoetryOne shots. Relatable things. For girls, And guys. For muslims, And muslimah. For all, That needed to let things out, To clear your mind, To explain the pain, The anger, The trust, The hatred, The love, The little things.
