Through the eyes of another..

I struggle to come to terms with the depth of my plight.
I wonder how I came from security to uncertainty.
But I do not complain, nor do I lament,
My greatest fault being, I neither repent.

I can acknowledge my faults.

I am now labeled 'homeless', though I have a roof over my head.
There are others around me, labeled the same; older and younger,
A kaleidoscope of race.
Day after day, I wake to my own desire,
Master of my day, my wanderings, my life.
Boy, does it hurt.

But I admit my own transgression.

Yeah, the 'free' bird sings of sorrow.
I was once the guardian of a treasure so rich,
Something I squandered, in life's glitzy casino.
My heart carried this treasure,
I was known as the 'safekeeper'.



This is the story of a guy I met recently during the course of my work. In essence, he is now homeless and admits to living in the disobedience of Allah. He was, in fact, a hafiz but squandered it. He believes his homelessness to have been a punishment because of this, and fully accepts it.

This poem remains incomplete.