Doctor, Please

Can you soothe the ache
of a childhood riddled with bullies
and teachers blinded by a lack of
compassion, not knowing what
to do for me?

Can you stitch away the scar
under my left arm, one I don’t need
to hide but feel when winds turn brisk?
I won’t say I’m blameless but I didn’t
ask for this.

Tell me, can you ease the agony
of a shattered heart, beaten with
a mallet of indifference? If hatred
had hammered me, I could understand,
accept it but pain given to a stranger
to release heirloom racial, religious,
political hatred to an innocent victim
is something I cannot comprehend.

Can you restore dignity to confidence
crushed by greed of the needy, a jealousy
that all that is mine belongs to them? My
possessions are meager but shallow minds
are savage, don’t care that I work hard;
they’ve never had a job.

Can you detox a soul stolen of mercy,
me left hung over a precipice without
an offered hand up? I am repentant for
my misdeeds, penitent for mistrusting
the world but pure in intent to be cured.
Doctor, please, can you erase my ache?

~ J R Turek
June 26, 2021 Hour 11