Rifles laid down,
Chins raised,
The umpteenth flag
waving in the palace square.
A promise to our youth
wafting through the air.
Fresh ink from parchment
sealed on foreign soil.
Old men sigh
to the old wish
that youth does not understand
nor truly value.
The illusion of freedom,
choice, and liberty.
We are still bound
by our mortality.
By Miguel Luis Galang
