You look at me and call me oppressed

You look at me and call me oppressed,
Simply because of the way I'm dressed.

You know me not for what's inside,
You judge the clothing I wear with pride.

My body's not for your eyes to hold,
You must speak to my mind, not my feminine mould.

I'm an individual, I'm no man's slave,
It's Gods's pleasure that I only crave.

I have a voice so I will be heard,
For in my heart I carry His word.

" O ye women, wrap close your cloak,
so you won't be bothered by ignorant folk ".

Man doesn't tell me to dress this way,
It's a law from Allah that I obey.

Oppressed is something I'm truly NOT,
For liberation is what I've got.

It was given to me many years ago,
With the right to prosper, the right to grow.

I can climb mountains or cross the seas,
Expand my mind in all degrees.

For God Himself gave us LIB-ER-TY,
When He sent Islam, To You and Me!


Kilde: http://www.islamicpoem.com/?q=node%2F49