UNCHAINED

the cadets carry me to their home

drag me out of my clothes

hang them up on a hook

and laugh

at last,

I think, privately

they dress me in military blue

and cut off my hair

paint a red wound on my breast

‘now you play a wounded cadet

behind enemy lines, onto the stretcher

with you!’

they carry me through the streets

laughing cadets

and the screaming children

triumphant

at last,

I think, privately

at last

I am free