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Maguindanao is not for the martials
December 15, 2009
I look down
through a quarter of a million miles of space.
The moon shines on thieves
way towards the green grass of December
and I see nothing,
nothing but strangers,
dressing in the darkness of the fields
hundreds of them,
encircling the barren
yet enticing but repulsive land
Who are they?
Children should be playing,
tossing pebbles,
running with waves of the inexhaustible sea
but the waters are empty.



