The Same Blood
They’re afraid of me.
A glance of the mirror- and I could tell,
An elegant visage- no contrast of them
With five fingers and toes- I stand confused,
The abhorrence in their eyes
My body bruised.
Do not speak- it’s unwise.
To the liberals and literates- I seek help,
For the agony of Injustice, they’ve felt.
But I witness, no hands extend,
For thy sewed mouth shut, on my rend
I cut my hand- to verify my blood,
Red and rutilant, dripping down the mud
Elated I was- to find it regular,
Only less wrathful and whited sepulchre
Gathered my nerve- to them I went,
Why this hatred, why this resent?
To my question they silently nod,
‘Is that ‘cause I pray to a different God?’
Safiyat Naseem is a final year law student from Jamia Millia Islamia, New Delhi, India. She has a profound interest in works of literature and Art. Her previous works have been published in The National Herald and The Muslim Vibe among others. Check out her short verse poems, writings and sketches on her Instagram handle @safiyat_naseem