A Poem on Being an Outcast

I was in a group,

I felt like an outsider,

It seemed that everyone else was so smart,

Knew all the answers,

And here was me – on the edge.

There are some personalities in my group,

Who I’d much rather avoid,

They seem rude and cold,

Not very well-mannered,

And not very kind.

I hate those dominant types,

The ones that everyone else tries so hard to please,

Because if the ringleader decides to oust you,

Then everyone else will,

And social rejection hurts.

We sometimes feel we need to be a part of a pack, a clan or a tribe.

Eventhough modern life in the most industrialized cities has moved away from that,

Where people live more independent lives,

Where people aren’t so much part of a community,

It still seems in the workplace,

That there is safety in numbers.

People crave acceptance,

And to be an outcast,

Is to live a very difficult life,

Where no-one likes you,

And no-one wants you.

I feel like that outcast right now,

Like I don’t belong anywhere,

Not amongst my family,

Not amongst my so-called ‘friends’,

Who I wasn’t a priority to,

Eventhough I loved them so much.

But maybe all these experiences are good for me,

As it’s making me turn to Allah.

Eventhough my faith is weak,

I know that God needs to accept me,

In order for me to be saved.

But it’s not good enough to just know,

As I need to act upon it too,

And then purify my faith and my heart,

So that it isn’t tainted by anything that will win Allah’s despair,

Like the polytheism of love, fear and submission.

It must be all reserved for my Lord.

As believing then not acting,

Is like being in denial,

And that is what kufr is,

And I’d much rather that didn’t lie inside my heart.


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