For the child inside

Scribbles
Against the white background.
Your hand moves like that of a cautious artist,
Back and forth with swift, jerky strokes.
They see the carelessness of a child,
But I see the thought and intention
As you draw a dream.
Imagination swims in your eyes,
Melting my heart.
You smile at me,
That smile that is so rare and short-lived,
Untouched by the troubles I too well know.
The colors around me grow brighter,
The sunshine a little lighter,
And the weight bearing on my shoulders dissipates.
I sit down beside you,
Pick up three crayons
And scribble my worries away.

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For the child inside

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