This is the story of a Muslim named Mo.
It’s a symbolic story that many of us may know.
He was born in a Muslim family but they were weak in the deen.
He was a lovely child, he was more precious then anything you’ve seen.
He grew up so quick; it was just a flash before his parent’s eyes.
They didn’t get to teach him about Islam. You know how the time just flies.

Before they knew it, they were sending him off to school.
They were so happy; he shined like a precious little jewel.
He was taught that he was a Muslim, but that’s about all he knew.
He wanted to know more but his dad had way too many things to do.
He had cute little cheeks; they turned rosy as he got tired.
He was a handsome little guy, he was always admired.

But with his parents so busy, he never got to learn about Allah.
The days past by and his parents never taught him how to do Salah.
Some more years past by, and by now his voice began to change.
He felt new emotions, and he liked them, even though they felt strange.
His dad finally took him one day to some Islamic Sunday school.
But he had already learned from his friends that religion just wasn’t cool.