A wrong feeling started to fog my brain

I brace my thoughts and bluff my self-esteem.

Too little time and yet I choose to strain

to get on paper all the wanted gleam.

The trials have finished and so does this fate

resulting in ambivalent answers.

Ballots unfold, I hear the closing gates

waves of voices show that I’ve no power.

And so my heart taps the prophetic drum

and reflex pins the crescent on my cheeks

weakening joy of the copious plum

of triumph- no, the hints they come so meek.


The emperors come, they all question me

I deny their thoughts-I’m a little happy.