March 25, 2012 § Leave a comment

When they fire bombs and mortars on my people, sir
Gathering in our streets and crying to be free
We will join hands, raise our heads, lift our voices, sir
We do not wear our honour on our sleeves

And if I find myself caught and trapped, sir
As spring sunlight glints softly through the trees
I will lift my shoulders high and hold back, sir
I will not wear my honour on my sleeve

If they ask me for names, faces, places, sir
I will hold my head still and I won’t scream
If they put cigarettes out on my face,
Sir, I will not wear my honour on my sleeve

If they march me blindfolded to my cell, sir
I will not struggle or resist or drag my heels
When they shut me up in the darkness I’ll know, sir
I did not wear my honour on my sleeve

I did not scream or shout or beg for mercy, sir
I did not cry have pity or please
When I found myself caught and marched away, sir
I held my honour in my heart
Not on my sleeve

And if they beat him and break his bones, sir
Or parade him on TV for all to see
An example for all rebellious ones, sir


His quiet dignity will carry you and me


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