Clad in a yellow T-shirt,
the child walked hand in hand with her parents to her first protest.
The theme was free and fair elections.
She could not vote but followed anyway. She wasn’t given a choice.
The sea of yellow trembled with excitement and anticipation,
geared for a fun-filled Saturday afternoon with a statement to make,
with salt for tear gas and what not to say if detained.
Peaceful almost, till hell broke loose.
Lurkers clad in black sheep’s clothes broke the cordon.
Water cannons and tear gas exploded as promised.
The child wondered why the stinging eyes and painful skin,
in spite of the red raincoat.
Mama, Papa shouldn’t you keep me safe?
We are Gen Y, motivators of change. We occupy squares. It is for you.