The History We Inherited

September is every year’s change of heart

The colors shine brighter, refusing to fade

Although before we could ignite the light now

There was a dark time back in the day

Opening the new decade, the seventies

Finds the Philippines in the crocodile’s jaw

President Ferdinand Marcos

Officially declared Martial Law

Whenever this story is told

Everyone may remember the crimes so unforgivable

Recalling the victims as though still in class

Saying “they,” like it’s always that simple

How about us in the present time

Even now, led by the same name?

If that era indeed made us learn our lessons

Say, how could we still have trusted the ones to blame?

Have we no shame?

Acting like the atrocity never existed

Undoing it is impossible, but repeating it isn’t

Now “we” mirror this part of the history we inherited

Tormenting innocents without remorse

Ignoring and violating their rights

No action, accountability, or admission of guilt

With no long-term improvements, but boasting otherwise

Truly, the times have changed, yet the wrongdoings stay

Hurting our country through the same wound

Each vote for the wrong people never does anything right

Neither does it heal us from the history we did not choose

All that we do is look forward to the future

Recycling the same challenges and adversities

Reconsidering our choices every election

And the inevitable repetition becomes another tragedy

Though it has been a long time since Martial Law

It lingers like a memory unapologetic of its magnitude

Venturing into our understanding of history

Especially our efforts not to repeat it — even if we do