President Ortega and his wife, vice-president Rosario Murillo.


The young didn’t know,

but deep within their spirits

a desire was burning,

a fire

lit by their parents

and grandparents too.


A fire sparking

a will to be free,

feeding an urge

to stand up and fight.

Fight for their right

to be human

to be safe to be alive,

unknown to the puppet on strings

pulled by dark madness

dressed up with the feathers

of a bird of paradise,

lost in a reality that isn’t theirs.


Paradise lost in the eddying vortex

of power and greed.


The young don’t remember

but they fight for their future

driven by the dreams of their old

to be human

to be safe

to be free

to be alive


Because real life cannot exist in the grip of steel,

dressed up in the colours of a bird of paradise.


This is part 4 in the series My (R)evolution, reporting from a country in chaos, trying to make sense of my own mind.

Find other episodes here.


This poem has also been published on

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