Night Walker

Each night I walk these desolate roads
my bare feet are calloused and bruised
I stumble over unkempt paths
hurrying to find my place for the night
the terror of what hides in the bushes
keeps me running as I try not to panic
I struggle to not let fear cloud my senses
but the things I have witnessed
haunt me day after day
heavy footfalls and recurring gunfire
are not just part of my nightmares
they dominate my life
I have seen fathers beat, mothers raped
and children stolen away
I wear the mark of a machete
my innocence has been stolen from me
I walk this road with others who have suffered
our homes looted, and parents killed
at night we huddle together
shivering, not from cold, but fear
we fall asleep to distant gunfire, glad it’s not here
each morning we leave, only to return at night
we are the night commuters.


“When the war is over we will stop walking”