Land of the free

I know what you’re thinking, Here goes another Muslim. Preachin, teachin tryna change the way the world sees them. But I’ll make this quick. I’m NOT a refugee Born in the south next to American Babies Please tell me where the problems started.. Is it the way I dress in the land of the free? Or is it my last name that makes everyone Around me act so awkwardly? We fear what we don’t know and fear what we can’t read “It’s written in Arabic, so it MUST have some hidden coordinates For the next terrorist attack. Is this what America thinks? I know what you’re thinking Here goes another Muslim, Preachin’ teachin’ Tryna change the way the world sees them. But what am I supposed to say? That I’ve been bullied all my life? Left and right? Well I can’t and I won’t, Because that wouldn’t be the truth. But that doesn’t mean I don’t get Looks of disgust on the bus; Every day Every night Every moment of my life They sit there Waiting, anticipating For me to unload, For the bomb under my scarf To explode. Explode. Real Muslims don’t kill but they’ll never know Because what the media says, goes I don’t know if it’s just me but I’ve never Heard the word American and Terrorist In the same damn sentence That’s because if there ever was any They get deemed as mentally ill or Put away for a few years but if it’s A Muslim, African American, or Hispanic Person they keep them ringing in our ears, Increasing the fear. Land of the free..? But nothings ever free here.