Andrew Scott is a native of Fredericton, NB. During his time as an active poet, Andrew Scott has taken the time to speak in front of classrooms, judge poetry competitions, and have over 200 hundred writings published worldwide in such publications as The Art of Being Human, Battered Shadows and The Broken Ones.

Andrew Scott has published multiple poetry books, Snake with A Flower, The Phoenix Has Risen, The Path, The Storm Is Coming, Whispers of the Calm, Searching and Letter To You, a novella, Redemption Avenue anda book of photography, Through My Eyes.

A Walk Through Time is Andrew Scott’s second book of photography To contact Andrew, email …andrewscott.scott@gmail.com

Tiny House

Part I – Four Walls

I have been living, staring
within four blanks wall
for close to three, four weeks. 

The self-inflicted circumstances
that delivered myself here
are a bit blurry to me
however I remember most. 

Know what I did to get here.
The pride I lost over time. 

There is nothing to these walls.
Plywood nailed to lumber.
No pictures of family.
Blank, no personality.

Over time, parts of my life
will fill these walls.
However, now, it is four blank walls. 

Part II – Misspent Youth

I have had an issue
since I was very young.

I had my first taste
around a lit bonfire
shortly after I turned fifteen.

That night it was straight gin.
To others, it may have been a bit harsh.
For me, so smooth down the throat.
Match made in the fires.

Some weekends were worse than others
as time went on in my teens
to my mid- twenties. 

I was always able to control
the urges while in school or working.
That was how I was able to hide it.
Responsible when I had to be. 

I look back at that time,
maybe it started 
cause I had too much freedom
and could explore anything.
The wounds of misspent youth. 

Part III – Settle Down

In my late twenties
I met a lady who set me straight.

I tried to hide how much
of the liquids entered me
however it was not hard to figure out
especially with the lack of memory.

The ultimatum came
to give it up or be alone again.
The decision was an easy one
since I had already lost
a lady due to my self-indulgence.

To be honest, I barely remember
that previous relationship. 

I know at my age
that it was time to grow up
and admit things to myself.
To take a moment.
To realize it was time to settle down. 

Part IV – False Friends

I took time to myself
to change the places 
I went to on the weekends.

Started to hike and bike
to keep myself busy.
New hobbies
where I would not be drinking. 

I invited old friends
to this new lifestyle.
I could never get one out. 

From what I gathered
they like me drunk
and did not like sober me. 

I lost contact with all of them
throughout the years. 
False friends, sad. 

Part V – One Glass

I went to a work get together.
A networking meeting
with my boss. 

I decided during the mix and mingle
that on glass of wine would be alright. 
It was only one. 

I woke up without a memory
however swelling on my cheek.
I was so confused. 

When I went to my kitchen
my wife was staring at me.
Daggers from her eyes to mine. 

She told me that I was dropped off,
newly unemployed by my boss. 

Guess he did not say too much.
My boss called me an embarrassment
and passed my bloody face
back to my wife. 

Swear, it was one glass.

Part VI – Spiral

It did not take long
for things to spiral.

At home, my wife
just stopped talking.
I get blank stares.

Jobs were impossible to find.
Everyone heard about what I did
when they called my former employer.

My time was taken
up with self-pity. 

Old habits started to creep in.
What else did I have to do?
Seemed logical to me.

Until I came home
and found a bag on the steps
and new door locks.

Thought if I yelled and begged
my wife would let me in.
The called officers did not. 

Part VII – Roaming

After being released
from an overnight stay
I walked around town
for a few days. 

I must have gone up and down
every street three or four times.
People, who did not recognize me,
started giving me change. 

It may have been the smell 
of alcohol or worn clothes. 

Off the city trails
I came across a hidden place.
Full of tents and ad hoc homes,
built with whatever they could find. 

They were very welcoming
when I came across them.
Even offered a little food.
I have that with red wine.
It was turning into my favourite. 

Part VIII – Tiny House

I like it here.
A person can be themselves.
I picked my own little spot.

Finding a spare, wooden shack
was not as hard as I thought. 
People move in and out 
of here all the time. 

There is a small space
for my little belongings,
a bag and that was it. 

No one said a word
about my red bottle
and I never asked them about theirs. 
Without anyone’s rules but mine. 

The walls maybe empty.
This tiny house is mine.