The hall light is always on every night that he is gone.
He hears his mother toss in bed while he slips in at dawn.
In the bookshelf by the stair,he can see it sitting there,
like a waiting watchful wiseman scolding him with care.
In the morning will they fight about him being out all night?
Will he resent their gift of love and not admit that they are right
All he wants is to fit in some place but must he compromise his faith?
He can't look himself or his parents in the face
He takes the book upstairs unread,sits it close next to his head
then counts the prayers he's missed and lyes hoplessly in bed
oh Allah, he's so afraid to read

A piece taken out from the song 'Afraid to read' by Dawud Wharnsby Ali.