The islander

A man
(Not a true man)—
More puppet-like
With his toothy grin.

Wooden—
A plaything—
He wouldn't stand 
Without his strings—

They left with him a tin-foiled
Sabre that wouldn't wave; 
A mouth that wouldn't speak; 
A mind that wouldn't think—

And a thousand men like him
Guard this island
Fearlessly.

Dale Chou
2003-02-28