by S. Thana
—
It is the same flag that once waved above your head
as you stood at attention before school.
The same burden of blue, white, and red,
told the same lies, by the same fools.
But here you are, resplendent in your youth,
ready to take up a different fight.
The power, the glory, the might of your truth,
a last collection of stars daring to shimmer in the night.
Do not fear, my children, for we fight with you,
as best as we can and in ways you may never know.
We failed you, we let you suffer the heartbreaks and coups
of old men, of old ideas, a sorry and tired old show.
But fight on, fight on! Be the generation that wins!
Let yours be the power, the glory, the hunger,
that rises above this sorry din.
My generation failed, as did my fathers and his father before,
They would kill you, as they did us,
because they still hunger for more.
But fear not them, nor their rotten estate, nor their wrinkles or threats.
Rise up now, my dear students, and leave behind no regrets.
We are with you.
