Talk to me not through Sarahah
But words of poetry in Nirvana.
Have courage to face me
Than anonymously
Being a secret admirer
Whom I shall forget in time.
Don't believe Anonymous for one minute
That I hungrily salute
Your bravery while we play Ludo Star
And you flirt as if it were war;
I do not return the sentiment
Nor will we ever rhyme.
Why do you waste those precious hours
Writing a bed of cheap frandsheeping flowers?
Is it a testament to your manhood?
If it is, then I have withstood
Your advances, of ill repute
Worthy to be awarded a dishonourable crime.
I must insist you stop painting me a whore
If I deemed you unworthy you old boar
With no ethical codes, moral integrity
Yet you call me names makes you a holy entity
But I am afraid you are of no substance
Singing me all those hymns you think are sublime.
I am neither bought with tulips nor bitcoin
And I am afraid you have to stitch up your groin
Filled with mindless Grindrr lust
And I can swear if I really must
But I am afraid of not sullying myself
To someone who is a lowly bastard made out of slime.
Therefore, all your mentions containing my handle
Have me resort to creative ways to manhandle
Your ego, your insecurities, and less than savoury
Thoughts about how you can get me into your slavery.
Alas, while I create worlds of splendour art
Which irritates you, and thus it is dirtied with begrime.
I wonder what is it about my independence
You find demeaning? Spurring you to write nonsense,
On social media; blackmailing me into submission
Forcing my hand to curse you with your own superstition
Of Amazonian woman who will spite you down
As you are cursed to roam a shadow of yourself without a single dime.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily reflect the official policy or position of Muslim World Today.
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