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Scars

I have many scars. They’re healed wounds. Their browns, pinks, and tans cover me. Burns, paper cuts, and falls have caused them. Some incidents more painful than others. Some I can't even remember. These scars are said to give me character; a uniqueness that no one can duplicate. They make me special. But I have other scars. Scars that are not a physical attribute. Scars on my heart for example. Scars in my mind. Some wounds may heal, but the pain is always there. The physical gives you a uniqueness, but the psychological truly scars you; makes you who you are. They shape your outlook on life. My heart has endured wound after bitter wound; scarred up for life. I do my best to protect it, to keep that last past scar free. I have many scars. I have many different kinds of scars. They make me who I am. I wear them bravely as I stumble about in life. I am unafraid of who sees them. They make me who I am, and I just so happen to like who I am.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Date: 12/2/2014 4:57:00 PM
I love the way you ended your poem, Genevieve, That is more than half the battle, liking who you are. And people can deny it, but we all have scars. But God covers them with his love. He does not see our scars. We are His children, all beautiful in His sight. You poem gets a 7 from me and I also liked your form. Blessings, Darlene
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