by: Cheryl L. Daytec 

So you were on your way to the huge hippodrome
You moved with the grace of a swan
Twenty  million  people  waited for the wave
 of your dainty hands on black-and -white TVs

That was what you were supposed to do
Alas, you rolled down the car window
The stench of  existence deterged of freedom
pervaded the air
You  looked straight into the eyes of a child
hawking her tender flesh to wrinkled  strangers
not quite comprehending her  tragedy
You saw her haggard mother
holding with one thin hand a boil-infected baby
letting go of  hope with  the other
You saw her jobless father  burn his self-deprecation
with a bottle of cheap alcohol
Hungry peasants carried full harvests to lay down
At the feet of an indolent  landlord chewing  cigar

There were millions of them
There were just a few of you

The soft bed, the flashy cars, the banquets,
The promises  of fame:   their  glitter was illusion
 Subdued by  the sudden flash of enlightenment

It was a time when opulence was a badge of shame
-an era  when hope was  heresy to  the wretched
Freedom was a  word inside  the lexicon
 devoid of form outside of it
a rhetoric of tyranny to mask injustice
a  birthright without duty-bearer
calling for  vanguards to unchain it

You heard the call the moment you knew
One cannot fully enjoy a world
that despoils the  laughter of others

So you turned the car around
Slipping out of your gown
You dropped
 the circlet of fame around  your head
the rogue lipstick into the garbage bin
It was war; you picked up a gun and rushed
 to the  battlefields - a soldier of the people
Power started to lose balance
when you and comrades cast arrows into apathy
creating a  hole through which sunshine could pass
to  grace  that young girl’s pallid life
to give her mother strength to collect hope
to put color on her father’s waxen face

You never  put down the freedom torch
You made more torches
passing  them on to the toiling masses
They found their way out of the darkness
of apathy and victimhood
To the light of consciousness
To the parliament of the streets
To the corners of the countryside
 To the slums, to the prisons
Confronting the throne
Crumbling the cornerstone of injustice
Winning victories for the oppressed class

There are  virtues more solid  than beauty
-Love for the unloved, love for the masses
Sacrifice for society’s dregs
Choosing them all,  
You turned your back on a crown of beauty,
the fancy dresses, the limelight
and became more  beautiful

Now, from where the struggle goes on
We watch you ride  into the sunset
as only you could/chytdaytec 14jul2012