Ben

Ben, a young boy from India, wearing a scarf of red,

Stares intently and shakes his head,

“I’m full of love and curiosity,

Adopted when small even though the agency,

 Thought for sure I might be,

Difficult to place for it was agreed,

I could be malformed, for no one had a clue,

That I was as normal as you,

It was thought I might not make it,

Because I was so tiny I could fit,

In a shoe box, but I grew,

Changing the life I once knew,

And with lots of fresh air,

Good nutrition and loving care,

My adoptive parents gave

Me love which my life it saved,

 

It was what I wanted and needed,

And through the years I proceeded,

To just be a unique, growing young lad,

Usually good, but sometimes bad,

It was plain to see that I was part of a family,

That loves the world and especially me,

My parents call me their joy,

For I’ m bright, happy, and all boy,

Now in my portrait I watch for visitors, a few steps up the stair,

Does my family know I’m here? Perhaps they’re not aware.”

"Be Aware"

I know why she glares,

But I do not dare,

Challenge that penetrating gaze,

Her crisp dress of white,

Contrasts sharply in the light,

With the blood from her lips,

And from her fingertips,

She admonishes, “Be aware,”

From the past she stares,

Remembering the students running,

And the gunman’s cunning,

Herding the hostages up the stairs,

Having caught them unawares,

Fingers clutched, she is still tense,

None of the shots made much sense,

So she sits with angry glare,

Remembering all that happened there,

A portrait changed by the artist’s flair.