ANDREW SCOTT

 

Paint A Picture

I wish I could paint a picture

with the feelings I have

of what my eyes can see

to share with all of you. 

There used to be a peaceful, quiet time

when I could walk the streets

of the humble city that I live

without feeling the fear that I have now. 

I wish I could paint a picture

of how my heart sinks

as I walk past a burnt down business

there was here for the same decades as I. 

Or how I feel as I walk through broken glass

from the windows of defenseless buildings

that are there to provide a learning sanctuary

to those who can walk through the doors. 

I wish I could paint a picture

of how unsafe I feel

when I walk parks

that have become a murder ground.

Before, around here, it felt vibrant and safe,

no corners around a dark corner,

face was smiled at the sites.

I wish I could paint that picture now. 

Luke

Luke is not much of a praying man.

In the past, every time he asked for a miracle

Luke always ended up in this cold waiting room. 

This would be the third trip in less than a year.

Watching, defenselessly, his child

go through yet another surgery

that was not scheduled. 

Two years ago, roughly, a lump was found

growing in the child’s lower leg.

One surgery was to take out the tumour

but the cancer kept on coming back. 

Each time, felt the doctors

could not have missed all of it.

He really tied to believe this.

Faith was being lost 

with each painful visit. 

Luke has run out of comforting words

for his emotional beaten child.

He can only hold their hand

to support the fear, they feel

and give the reassurance needed. 

Seems the tumor grows more with time

and their leg looks like a road map of scars.

Hard to see as Luke cannot take them away.

The child is so brave.

Luke waits in this quiet room again,

refusing to pray. 

That part has been beaten down. 

ANDREW SCOTT