"WITHOUT POWER", poem, by Patricia LARANCO.

WITHOUT POWER.

When you are without power,

When you are not the strongest

All which is yours is stolen

And you are reduced to nothing

You haven’t any place

Where you can go,

No place that you can call “my home”,

You become a nomadic one,

A stranger in all the countries,

A debased beggar

Everywhere asking for

Goodwill and charity,

Waiting at their pleasure.

When you’re without power,

Your wings are cut,

You are limping,

Completely dispossessed,

You’ve lost everything:

Your say in the matter, your rights, your opportunities,

Your living space;

People are crushing you

As they can crush a stunted woodlouse;

No one recognizes you any beauty,

Any spirit,

You’ are only a part of the population,

Of the bastardized, of the defeated,

Your duty is to keep a low profile, to hug the walls,

To stay in the outskirts,

At best, to celebrate the sparkling of the looters

Who now became lords of the peace,

Never forget that, your duty

Is not to disrupt by waking up,

By your out of tune singings

The holy consensual concert that are playing

All those happy people whose remembrance

Left them.

PL