Color of Grit by Amanda Kern

At the elevator,

the new intern hesitates, staring at the scrubs -

'Pink....why pink?' he muttered to himself.

A veteran nurse just chuckled,"oh hon, you'll learn -

it's the color of grit, of holding on

when this city tries to break you."

Pink, once the budget color, not for style but necessity,

but also the color of Cowley,

who fought on the national stage,

proving that trauma patients deserve not the closest door,

but survival's best chance.

It's the color that says you're not here for the glamour, but for the

quiet war found under the hum of fluorescent lights 

and the roar of helicopters flying in.

When a teenager gets caught in the crossfire,

in this city outsiders call 'Bodymore' with disgust,

you, clothed in pink, become their anchor, 

the tether holding them to life and home.

In the neon glow of the bar off Greene,

where hope is served warm, with crab dip and Old Bay on your lips,

or maybe in the tattoo shop or the darkest jokes you'd ever hear,

you'll find light. 

Pink becomes steel.

They may call you a misfit,

but, here on these streets,

you're the one who stitches the city back together,

though sometimes it tears before you even tie the thread.

you wear the pink, not for the glory,

but for the silent grace of bearing witness,

of bringing hope one heartbeat, one breath, one surgery at a time -

until the color blends into your soul.

Amanda Kern is a Baltimore-based medical social worker, who supports patients through trauma, chronic illness, and end-of-life experiences. Her poetry draws from the profound moments shared with patients and explores themes of resilience, grief, and healing.