I, Aung San Su Kyi

(This was written when the Rohingya crisis first caught the world’s attention, and Su Kyi lost her moral status)

I’d smile; my father’s gaze would beam
his love, his passion, and his dream;
his dream of true equality,
democratic  society.

Friends, family, success;
couldn’t fill my inner hole;
I waited impatiently
to go fulfil my role.

Once back, I thrived in isolation;
my people’s trust, their admiration,
my inner strength, will, glimmering hope,
these formed my wealth, they helped me cope.

The henchman of power came by stealth,
(history all over), he stole my wealth.
My father hears my silent scream
I’ve lost my Self; I’ve lost his dream.