041010a Let Them, I'M Walking Poem by Manonton Dalan

in darkness i don't know what day could be
i can't tell where is the hour hand pointing
i can't recognize a face but voices heared
i can tell if it is a rock, a wood or cold flesh
soon my fingertips would be my, my eyes
as my feet would be navigating the unseen

slow and very careful, words that prevail
no different than a small child learning to
walk the first time, learning to talk also
when was the last time you feel like this
when every move you do is being watch
walking on eggs, so scared to be scratch