Scars

SCARS On my wrist small white line Cut with bread-saw aged nine. Thumb carries snake-shaped patch Memory of barbed wire scratch. Arm got torn from mountain fall: Could’ve lost it - close call. Big white mark on knee down there : Tackled a quarterback in mid-air. Scars like these show a lived life But some cuts are from a sharper knife. Blade unseen tearing deep Sting remains, hurts still keep. Teacher said my work was poor Did my best but no effect He stood me up outside the door My school ambition then was wrecked. Girl I loved found another guy; She was all I’d ever hoped for. All she said was, Ok –goodbye, I was shoved out by the back door. Scars not seen or felt to touch Can deeply hurt so very much.