Who are we?
The entire world is waiting to see,
Just what this Ummah might be,
But can we tell them who we could be,
When we ourselves cannot see…
Who we are.

Are we the proverbial raisin withering in the sun?
Are we the stinking sore,
Festering, waiting to run?
Are we unto the world a sagging, heavy load,
Are we the suicide bomber,
Ready to explode?

Who are we?
Are we the bygone glories that did not last?
Are we the shattered fragments of today’s bomb blast?
Are we the empty sermons filled with bombast?
Are we the road not taken,
Leading back to the past?

Are we the jaws that bite, the claws that catch?
Are we foolishly left holding shattered dreams
And battered lands with which to go galumphing back?
Are we rabid wolves part of the pack?
Is the only word we know -attack?!
Are we the feast of the nations, or a bedtime snack?

Are we the white man’s burden or the black man’s bane?
Are we pimping the pleasure principle or pawning pain?
Are we tripping on the acid in the rain,
Or keeping our heads and making things plain?
Are we buckling and breaking under the strain
As we are demonized over and over and over again…

Who are we?
The entire world is waiting to see,
Just what this Ummah might be,
But can we tell them who we could be,
When we ourselves cannot see…
Who we are.