The Scar

They wonder, they talk as they pass during my walk. They stop to see, to stare, to gawk. They cannot understand, nor believe. How a man could do this to me ? I was not beautiful to begin with, but a woman all the same. I know I am not to blame, but I do hang my head with shame. I gasp as I look at my reflection, and what I see is not me, anymore. Just a hideous image that used to be somebody from my past. If I had any beauty at all, it is now gone. Marred by a scar,for the rest of my life, because of a night of rage. I must turn this page, I must move on, and realize my past face is gone. Replaced, with one that is not me.