Eyes I saw full of me,
  Blue, or brown, these now pass by me,
The lore of Love thus defined
Remains unspoken,  though refined:
  'To where is he gone,'  she in muttering
            tone asks;
We've left so much for  the WASPS;
  Now, retreated for  Allah's sake,
Where can I, for her,  make the bake?
  Nor for love, where to rest and reign--
To escape all of pain?  Ya. RABBI, hello,
            and Your saints,
Yes, we're your guests--
  Should we have to pay for our souls,
So exploited within these walls?

                        -by Hakim H. Kassim.