I am that dark figure
standing alone on the outside,
watching the people tear it down,
burning all they have built.
Turning back the human race
to the savage time of centuries ago.
I was there in 1969
when the Irish city of Belfast
turned into a destructive time.
Filled with the heart of violence
the healing never happened,
leading to anger and hate
that filled the ever-hanging cloud
for decades of bombings and killings.
In the Canadian city of Oka,
I stood on the land
that was being protected
by the Indigenous Mohawk tribe
and the boys in blue
and the boys in camouflage green.
Guiding the aimed bullets of pain
to the one symbol of no tomorrow
that was added to the burial ground.
As the National Guard
lined up in Kent State
to silence the war protesting
voices echoing in Ohio.
I sat perched nearby
about to change life in the seventies.
The guns were to be fired overhead,
the aim off, killing four
but taking so much more.
I was there for it all.
Pulling the strings of destruction,
adding to the screams of the land
over the mist of decay and fire.
I linger and go to the next town
to leave my mark unseen.
No one sees this angel
and no one ever will.
January 15, 2018
© Andrew Scott - Just A Maritime Boy 2018