MY BELOVED TROUSERS
Up above the ankles,
High my trousers go,
It’s not a sign of trouble,
A symbol of humility,
Anytime you see me,
You feel am going weird.
My dressing makes me strange,
I’m one of the strangers,
Islam began as a strange religion,
And it’s returning to being strange,
Glad tidings to the strangers.
Some said; it’s because of camel’s shit,
You are only being wasteful,
It doesn’t suit 21st century,
No, it’s a levity issue.
MJ wore his trousers above his ankles,
No comments, it’s his style,
Carrot was worn above the ankle,
It was the trend that time,
Nigga starch their pencil trousers,
Above the ankle, it goes,
You all see it as fashion and hail,
But, when mine goes above,
I became an extremist, fanatic and a fundamentalist.
Enough of these double standard for God’s sake,
I forsake your opinions and arguments,
Driven by ignorance, whims and desires,
I desire to be with my beloved Prophet in Jannah,
Who attributed Isbaal with Jahannam.
It’s high time you stopped your vituperations,
No matter the condemnation and defamation,
It increases my motivations and aspirations,
Qur’an and Sunnah are the revelations,
With the understanding of the best generations,
These are my sources of inspirations,
Stop the persuasion,
I’ve gotten my conviction.
Nifsu saaq is the standard,
I’m striving to meet the standard,
Middle of my shin is the target,
So, stop using “Panadol” for my headache.
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