In a foreign country with no maps
Attention overworks until it snaps
I wander like the blind do, wrapped in fear.
I recognise no landmark, no friends near.
I have no mobile phone I have no torch
With clumsy feet around the lanes I lurch
Can we know when we should give up hope?
The landscape seen by grief is telescoped
Tiny defects seem like canyons deep
Living with no safety can we sleep?
Protective tools may harm when overused
The mind the brain the nerves become abused
All alone, when can we feel secure?
Who who will give us help, what will endure?
No man is an island John Donne wrote
Who will build the bridges to the heart?
How my heart sings 