My Mirror

Look in the mirror

what do I see?

I try to figure out who that is

staring back at me.

She's a girl.

Maybe a woman?

They forget she is so much more.

In her eyes

I see strength

as well as the fear her heart stores.

Upon her head

her hair remains unclothed.

For she hides from those

who've never entered a mosque.

Her skin is painted

with the agony of her people.

Her soul is tainted

with  the spite of those people.

Below her eyes

are the bags that she bear.

They loosely hold her studies

 she will use to make them care.

That is if she becomes successful.

She sways back and forth in fright.

But I know she can better the world

as she works day and night.

My hand raises

to touch the mirror.

I know who she is.

I can see her. 

A little rough around the edges

but I am pleased.

Indeed With Hardship, she will find,

Comes Ease.