Ideally

Tomorrow, the calendar turns a heavy page, 

Forty years since the yellow ribbons frayed. 

But the streets stay quiet, the asphalt cold, 

Just an ordinary Wednesday for the young and old. 

The "Spirit of '86" is a ghost in the hall, 

While the veterans who carried it wither and fall— 

Bless their hearts, they are slipping away, 

Taking the fire of the barricade to the clay.

Ideally, the scales would be balanced and true, 

But the ghosts of the recent are coming into view. 

As the ICC gathers its papers and pleas, 

To weigh out the blood of the "War" on its knees, 

I think of the word—that hopeful "Ideally"— 

Spoken by Bam while the truth settles wearily. 

Justice is a harvest we never quite reap, 

While the guardians of order are buried or asleep.

Ideally, the screen would be a mirror, not a mask, 

But the giants grew quiet when taken to task. 

Six years since the signal at Ignacia went dead, 

The bold became cautious; they bowed their heads. 

Kamuning played it safe, a silence so sharp, 

Omission became like a string on a harp— 

Playing the tune that the powerful sing, 

While state media bores with a hollowed-out ring. 

Bless the few who still pivot, who fight for the frame, 

Trying to call out the shadows by name.

Ideally, a leader would rise for the state, 

With a heart for the people and hands that are straight. 

But the theater of '28 is already cast, 

In a script that looks hauntingly like the past. 

A declaration of service with no soul inside, 

Just a daughter of Davao on a populist ride. 

We voted for the name that we once cast away, 

With a digital army to lead us astray.

The Constitution is gasping, its ink turning pale, 

A ship with a spirit but no wind in its sail. 

They’ll deny the alliance, the screenshots, the greed, 

But the internet remembers every sown seed. 

The spirit is dying, or perhaps just ignored, 

As we sharpen the edge of the same double-edged sword. 

Forty years later, we’re still at the gate, 

Trading our "Ideally" and "Civility" for a familiar, repetitive fate.