My Prayer

The story of my life is a diary, love, anger, bewildered, 

where I mean to write one thing but I write another,

I rise every morning with the desire to improve the world 

and a desire to enjoy the world; it's hard to plan the day

Everyday feels like my real life is about to begin, 

but something always gets in the way, a debt i forgot to pay, 

a problem that will not go away, I clear them so my real life can't delay, 

Not seeing that the beginning I am waiting for is the end of my days. 

Up to a point my life has been about consequences, 

my environment, my hereditary, my race, my society, 

but the time has come where I shall mold my own reality, 

No regrets about who I was yesterday, tomorrow is another destiny. 

I always build castles in the air, they tell me it's a bad thing

The way I figured is - isn't that where they should be?

All I have to do is toil to put the foundation to uphold it.

Even from the stones collected that others throw at me. 

Every evening I have to turn all my worries to Allah, 

what is the use of me fretting and missing sleep,

when He is going be up all night anyways, 

to give me the best answer for all the prayers I pray?

Maybe i don't like my job, may be i didn't get enough sleep, 

maybe i just had the worst day of my life, but there is no escape

no escape at all, i still have to be nice, get wildly enthusiastic,  

run down the stairs and bounce down in every step, 

Play in the street with the kids and stop to ride the wind.

I have to be grateful for one extra day above the ground, 

grateful for a fussing mother who loves me with all her love,  

grateful for a nagging boss because I am employed,

grateful for ungrateful siblings because to a family I belong. 

May I never be complete, may I never be content, 

may I never be your trophy, may I never be perfect, 

may I always be the hope of young girls who are desperate,

for a real woman who is letting her light shine. 

I want to tell you this, put your future in good hands - your own.