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.

couplet

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