A CRY FOR FREEDOM © 2008

I would like to be a mannequin,

Always impeccable in photographs,

Without having to adjust in me

The posture demanded by demagogies.

At inaugurations, among the guests,

To be commented on for my pose, for the best sides,

A symbol of perfection, unchanging, serene,

Without the weight of choices, of right and pleasant.

But, in the stillness of an empty gaze,

Does the shine of life find relief?

Or is it merely a mask, without expression,

That hides the truth, that feigns emotion?

I prefer to be imperfect, with soul and flaws,

To feel the warmth, the pain, and the battles,

For it is in vulnerability that I find myself whole,

And, even outside the photos, I am more true.

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