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.