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.
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