Waiting Room

By Avellina Balestri

Word Count: 367

Rating: PG for insinuation of drug use

Summary: A poem about deceiving appearances

waiting room
Image Credit: stateyourbusiness.com.au/in-the-waiting-room/

A young man

With a sparkling earring

And clothes that reek

Of sickening smoke,

The kind that dulls

All the senses

And makes me choke



He’s tapping his foot,

A jerking rhythm

Of uneasiness



The smoke is in his mind;

I know it is



His eyes are glazed

They dart as if watching

Ghosts from last night

Evaporating

Into puffs of smoke



Death and dullness

Inhale, exhale…again

Breath is for living

Or dying, it seems



Black and purple

Purple and black

The color of his clothes

And his bruised mind



A raven’s head

Is staring blankly

From his crumpled shirt;

It gives me chills



There is a tattoo

Scrawled up his neck

Green words, unreadable,

Possibly swears

Like every other word

He mumbles



His tone is monotonous;

His meaning unclear



O God, I wish he would leave…



A little child comes

Into this Waiting Room

Pudgy-faced, pink-cheeked

She coughs a little



Does she have a cold?

Or is it…the smoke?



And then I notice…

She is wearing black and purple too

It belies her soft features,

Her golden mop of hair

And baby-blue eyes



She’s playing with toys,

Sliding beads along twisted wires,

Running in circles,

Pretending to be a monkey

Or to fly from off a chair



She’s running…running…



Running into the arms

Of the young man

With a sparkling earring

And clothes that reek

Of sickening smoke



And he picks her up

And I see

Love

In those blood-shot eyes

And I hear

Love

In those mumbled words



And her face lights up

With angelic innocence

And she starts to play

With his backwards baseball cap



There are words in my heart

Burning, like my face:



“Let the little children come

To Me.”

To Me.

To him.

My God.



Was Christ before me

In this waiting room,

Gazing out

Through smoke-seared eyes

And mumbling

Through drug-cracked lips?



And while I wished Him

Far away

A little child

Saw the truth?



O Savior with the Suffering Face,

Teach me how

To see!

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2 thoughts on “Waiting Room

Add yours

  1. Great poem- nice style and cadence; however, I believe she saw him correctly before the child entered the waiting room, that this subject was not even trying to be the presence of Christ and, therefore was not!

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    1. Isn’t Christ always around us? So we are always in His presence whether we know and accept it. And every person is made in His Image, so we should look for Christ in everyone, especially the “least of these” as Jesus said. I think He wants us to help, not judge. 🙂 Just my two cents.

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