A sickness in their eyes.
Hanging fists clench
and unclench
watching my eyes of fear.
I was in the dark and must not
look back he said in the letter,
strong and full of hope.
In the visitor's room I am
afraid, my son.
Come home someday,
little boy in a man's prison.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem