I am scared of giving away
too many words to this world.
From behind half-open doors
I answer voices crying hoarse.
In the light that trickles in
I have my struggles and wins.
Close to myself I have another self
pushing me to be out in the open.
But I engage it to watch the murals
on the inner walls of my solitude.
There are violent protests at times
like the tantrums of a child
subduing into the night of calm.
Marking the end of the day
I stand near the window and gaze
while the doors in the distant buildings
are shut like tired eyes
and a thousand souls rest today
keeping their voices away.