crawling the streets
clawing stone
to move forward
stopped by a wall
clawing stone
to get upright
turning around
pushing his back
against the bricks
pricking up his ears
to hear every sound
his hairs standing up
to sense every movement
while fighting the dark fear
'Blindfellow' © Rob Knetsch 2013
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A very interesting poem. Tom Billsborough
Thank you.