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In the last martial law
my muse smiled kindly,
even winked
when troops
patrolled our streets.
She wore loud colors
and softly whistled
along the melody
that filled the room.
I watched her day in and day out
with binoculars
zooming in on
her faint smiles.
She traded frowns
for her votes
when I followed her
to an adjoining polling booth
clueless to politics.
Now she knows more about
freedom after tying
the knot to a politician
in opposition.
Her smiles
have grown cynical,
she laughs without reason
and her husband
calls her mad.
I still call her my muse
with capped binoculars. |
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