In the creep of night fall.
all gathered
to entertain for a change
to sing-muse to eachothers' spirits
that battered from dismantle oppressive establishment
their chief concerns and intentions
to water the drought land
from the thirst of freedom.
under deem light,
low voices.
they led a public intelectual ward
they jammed poetry words
spoken words- no profanity
writers like Camus, Marti...
were the center of their reflections
for each true word
they're fingers snapping that indicated total agreement.
by all means,
at club de bonne humeur
was to keep their minds sane
from dictatorship pressure and distress
they claimed right to their opinions
a common human right
so sad,
they were deprived from something so vital
gunshots, many lives shattered
attempted to stop the truth
for a while, dictatorship spurned their actions for freedom
then again,
as the torch passed down
soul reincarnated to other life-forces
spoken words continued...
today with the legacy of
club de bonne humeur
dictatorship shall never resurface on the land.
