Since my childhood
I am blind
I am so familiar with darkness
I call it home
A world
That I can say
That I am all alone
But, there is something that I am missing
They were the hands that rack my cradle
When my mother and my father were not around
They were the hands who touches me when I cry
Since my childhood
I am deaf and mute
I am so familiar with silence
I call it home
A world
That I can say
That I am all alone
But, there is something that I am missing
They were the hands that rack my cradle
When my mother and my father were not around
They were the hands who touches me when I cry
Since my childhood
I am lame, I can't walk
I am so familiar with stillness
I call it home
A world
That I can say
That I am all alone
But, there is something that I am missing
They were the hands that rack my cradle
When my mother and my father were not around
They were the hands who touches me when I cry
Since my childhood
They call me as a 'challenged child'
I am so familiar with ridicules
I call it home
A world
That I can say
That I am all alone
But, there is something that I am missing
They were the hands that rack my cradle
When my mother and my father were not around
They were the hands who touches me when I cry
All throughout our lives
We thought we were alone
In a world that separates us
From being loved and unloved
They were the hands of the Master (God)
Who touches us when we cry
Who cradle us into sleep
Who loved us for who we are.
Dennis DC. Marquez
