This poem is given out at a local masjid every year on Eid al-Fitr:
Every year you come and go
Begging Allah because you know
He will give you and ease your pain
Help you through and keep you sane.
But after this month is through
Some will go back to what they do.
At this time the floors are wet (with tears)
Because each night you place is set.
Itikaf, rocking, reciting
The rest of the year the angels are writing.
You call on your Lord with a vigor unseen
Until Ramadan comes again, your worship will not be as keen.
Now we will shop and deplete our funds
After begging Allah for that very one.
No Qiyamul Layl
I’ll miss your pleas
Until next time they’ll be no more.
I guess I’ll see you again next year,
If the angel takes you, I hope on you will be no fear.
I’ll see you the next time you need Allah,
I’ll Miss You