….cross roads…

...they tell me...
you are weird, 
you are strange,
you are fat, 
you are too short, 
you talk too loud, 
you are too opinionated, 
you speak too fast, 
you are wild...!!!


...and they go on...
you are not a proper muslim, 
you are not ladylike, 
you don't dress appropriate, 
you do not conform, 
you don't fit, 


...I am at a crossroads...
and they tell me there are four roads...
and they go on..."don't stay too long..."


I see so many more roads...
How about the small dirt paths?
Do I always have to be on the concrete?
I don't mind getting my feet a lil dirty;
if I can feel the fresh ground underneath my feet, 
and I love the feel of the wind whispering in my ears, 
and the birds harmonising my song, 
I feel at home in this never-ending maze, 
full of twists and turns, 
Don't tell me which road to take, 
You see black and white, I see gray, 
Don't turn around; just walk away.