Contrasting Colors

A shout of anger rent the air,
piercing through a cloud of numb
fingers and toes, curling
in on themselves, trying
to restrain themselves from triggering
hard knuckles on a fist.

A single teardrop hit the asphalt,
cutting through the hard words
that were hurled relentlessly
towards another’s ear, testily
trying to force a reaction, angrily
pulled from another’s mouth.

A peaceful bystander watched the crowd,
whispering into his heart and
begging himself not to add fuel to the flame
that was already casting so much blame
on others, like pelting acid rain
burning bullet holes into souls.

A cast-out mother shut her eyes,
hiding her tears from her children
who clung, whimpering, to her knees,
asking why they have to flee
from the place they used to be free,
and she said she didn’t know.

A faithful servant knelt and prayed,
and though no words escaped her lips,
she knew God heard wordless prayers, too.
So she prayed peace over her brothers
and sisters suffering unspeakable evils
that none but God could understand.

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