Scars are a mark of character;
the character we hold up with invisible flaws;
we hold it up in one dimension;
the same character that was tormented by pseudo-invincible claws.
You carried the weight of a nations fury and veiled it with optimism,
opting to smile at hope, while shunning despair.
Yours was not a political cloak but a garment of humane virtue.
On your last memory, cunningly stood a rabbit,
snugly sheltered by your stature,
with intentions rabid.
It stood like an old friend,
Who`s wit and smarts you knew all too well,
the wisdom lived in you; so like the cottontail,
you repelled odd fiends.
Upon its removal
a scar shall remain,
marking the character of an icon that lived before