Hong Kong Young Writers Anthologies Poetry 2017 | Page 173

The lamp
Battered and weathered by time
Was stripped down to pieces.
Unknown of the future, the lamp sat patiently
Dreaming for the day when it could stand on the street again.
Patience had done it a great favour
The lamp was placed back to its home
The pit, next to the busy Shanghai waterfront
Standing up straight,
It looked around, searching for fragments from the old times.
The lamp scanned the streets
it peeked over for suits, robes and “Cheung Sam”
Listened for laughter from bars and pubs.
Sniffed the aroma from cigars and opium
Yet,
It found nothing.
In a distance,
Flocks of people were marching.
Holding a red book and chanting revolution slogans,
They smashed pubs and bars
Ripped suits, robes and “Cheung Sam”
“Destroy the old filth!” they bellowed.
The lamp testified trials, torture
And execution.
People sported clubs, axes and sickles,
Accusing and swearing became a new trend.