Fresh Morning and Other Poems

By Andrew Scott

Fresh Morning

Every night, rain or clear sky,
I think about the day just passed.

The news headlines that came in
with the tragedies of the new world.
Missing neighbours from for away
that may never be found
while friends and family wonder
where the missing are alive or buried.

Nature's flames taking fields of its own
and the homes of settlers.
People sleeping in gyms without a home
without a place to go home to.

People of authority hurting people
they are supposed to protect.
Raising fear to anyone they approach.
Ruining it for those that do serve and protect.

It all tires the active mind
as I try to sleep at the end of the day.
Hold on to hope in all the worry
that tomorrow will be a fresh morning.

October 18, 2017
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2017

Reaper of Souls

She does not appear with the grin of evil,
rather the deceiving smile of the tender.
A picture of kindness that draws you in.

You cannot see the plan in her mind.
The one where she already knows your future,
how she will give comfort to your lonely heart
and listen to the words you place in the air.
To you, through sharing, she is the one.

You do not realize that you know nothing
of her and her travels as she moves in
however she knows all your weaknesses.

She has done this before, many times.
Picking the prey is a honed skill.
Always the ones with need
that do not pay the proper attention.

She is gone before you know.
Her mind knows the expiry date
before you start to notice the carnage
of what has been taken.

She will have another place to go,
always ensuring a new safety net
for her and her transient family
to rest their rests and bodies.

You will awaken with nothing.
Heart, mind and body full of empty,
Not knowing what happened.
You had been visited
by a mysterious spirit that created
a theft in your heart and esteem.

Without knowing or caring
you opened the door
to the skipping Reaper of the Soul.

November 4, 2017
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2017

The Others

Have always been looked at as one of the others
from people who judged where I am from
and the lifestyle that is lived by others and I.

Here, material things are hard to come by.

Our parents work very day until they cannot stand

to bring home a small amount of money

that has to put a little food on our scratched tables.

As kids, the lack of things
and the children on the outside
fitting into their new clothes and sparking new things
would make us feel small that we did not have.
A few of us tried to take from other families
so it looked like we did have
until we were called out as thieves.

Some of us were able to make it to school
in hopes that graduating would give.
A hope and opportunity that our parents
did not have for themselves.
People from the outside did not understand
but working jobs that paid little
was all we could get.

We were pointed too and laughed at
by so many kids in our schools
about our torn fashions
that we were given from our older siblings
or our neighbours that have kids that outgrew them.
The teasing usually ended in painful fights
for the ones who did the teasing.

Nothing helped our reputations
with anyone that had a little privilege.
That was parents and kids alike.
We saw the looks that were given
and heard the painful words thrown.
There was nothing we could say
or do to make our lives better
in anyone's eyes or hearts.
We were and are just the Others.

September 28, 2017
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2017