salaamu alaikum

so much. but for now, im trying to finish up a poem that I have to perform tomorrow at the mas-camp. i dont know why i said yes to this, but now its late night, and I have yet to finish up my poem....and it seems to keep getting longer and longer, and it doesn't want to finish. or i dont know how to finish.

here it is so far:

the mind is a terrible thing to waste
but most wait and waste their time
in supposed liesure, while we find
that most minds, and these minds both
continue to wither and die
spiritually, if not at the intellectual level
hearts like metal, only brief envy
for hearts that bubble, at the briefest,
slightest mention of their Lord
just a thin sheer sheet of silk wrapped around steel
one verse, and they're already bored
and whats worse, than a hard heart
that curses its own roots
that yearn for these divine verses
but he pines to break loose
and he dies, trynna sever ties
that cannot be severed
bonds that cannot be broken
lineage that cannot be better
because in the end
we all came from the same person
we from the same place
the same hood
so then why is it, that when the hood's real low
the fitted cap fit, fit to the absolute lowest
and your eyes won't show
without you having to lean back real slow
and it might hurt you so
because my back might break my pride
when I lean down to prostrate to the Divine
and when I say salaams to my brother
why does it gotta be with the thug mug
and the sweeping eyes
or from afar, the gaze of Hasad, the icy stares
break ice with more ice, now its only icy care
only numbs the pain, and you have yet to realize
see me through real eyes
because I'm just you're brother
bonds of blood
just a different father and mother
but my arrogance, refusal to see my sins
suck it up, give in, and give greetings to kin
its not hard
just impossible for the same reason
that it seems not possible
to wake up for a single prayer on time
but pray late, no sleep, cuz we were stuck online
the night before
missed congregation Salaat
so for this we vaguely hate ourselves for,
but the effort is too great
so we grate and grind our teeth for the next time
and we eat, sleep, live, and forget our meaning for being,
our meeting with the Benevolent Being
the next morning we do the same
shed no tears but show a little shame
with a sham of a frown made possible
by the tear in my gown or the brown stain
on my jeans, while we look in the mirror
and shave and shape up my pretty little name
for some street fame
and i play this like a trivial video game
and I say I'm sincere?
I got heart right?
i just gotta do my share and my part right?
but i like it, why? because I get to fight
and I get to tell my brothers the wrong from the right
I grew up on a playground, so I can throw some fists
and speech is easy, i've taken classes for this
so with hands and words, i fight this evil
and with my hands and words, i abuse the people
no i fight the people
but do i fight myself?
now thats an odd thing
for that I can procrastinate and wait for the last possible date
as long as my chest got breath and my soul got flesh, I'm straight
so I can come back to myself
cuz thats an easy win
for now its these heathens
and theyre lack of fear
i got so many questions for 'em, it'd take a couple of years
for for now, heres one, for right now and right here
why is the applause always louder than the takbeers?

* * * * * * *

.... im in trouble man. tomorrow after fajr, inshaAllah.