Yet We Must Still Resist
Tonight, in Myanmar, my wife works alone
As the children cry for rice.
She will rise to care for my mom at least three times.
On this humid night, sweat will drip into her eyes.
My mom will fight her daughter-in-law,
It should be me that cares for my mom.
Tonight, my wife will watch the door,
Her hands picking at her scabs, anxious for my return.
She will have to bravely kill any cobras or vipers
Although they terrify her.
The noises of the night will keep her awake,
Since I am not there to protect her.
Tonight, I sit surrounded by others,
In a dilapidated jail cell.
The bugs feast on us, and we cannot stop them.
We marinate in our waste as we stack upon the other.
We tried to resist the coup d'état
staged by Min Aung Hlaing.
Tonight, I am a prisoner who fought against the foe.
My comrades and I revolted,
Little to no avail.
Just hours ago, two brothers died,
And their families still don't know.
We had to do something, but our defeat made it in vain.
Tonight, I wonder if I will ever see my family again.
How many widows will be left with a family they can't support?
How much infliction can we Burmese take?
And now we are prisoners, stripped of all we are.
Demoralized by the foe,
Yet we must still resist.
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Yet WE Must Still Resist
by Stephanie Daich
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