MY SCAR IS MY PAIN
In the tapestry of time, where stories unfold,
A chapter marked by scars, a tale yet untold,
The canvas of existence, painted in hues,
Scar tissue whispers of battles we choose.
Beneath the surface, where shadows reside,
A map of survival, scars as our guide,
Each mark a memoir, etched deep and true,
In the saga of life, scars bear the view.
Oh, scar tissue, silent witness to pain,
Invisible ink on the skin’s vast terrain,
A testament to resilience, strength untold,
In the narrative of scars, stories unfold.
Like ancient runes, scripted on the soul,
Scar tissue weaves a narrative whole,
From wounds once bleeding, now healed and sealed,
A tapestry of battles, revealed.
Upon the skin, a memoir unfolds,
A story etched in scars, in mysteries bold,
Each line a memory, eternally traced,
In the chronicles of life, intimately laced.
In the crucible of time, where moments burn,
Scar tissue forms, a relentless return,
Yet in each mark, a phoenix may rise,
From the ashes of pain, strength belies.
A dance with shadows, a symphony of strife,
Scar tissue, the melody of a resilient life,
Like ripples on water, expanding wide,
In the tapestry of healing, scars abide.
Some scars are visible, etched on the flesh,
While others lie hidden, a secret enmesh,
Yet all tell a story of battles fought,
In the landscape of scars, lessons are taught.
Scar tissue, a mosaic of the soul,
A testament to wounds that took their toll,
Yet in healing, a beauty does emerge,
A phoenix rising, scars and all, to surge.
For scars are not just marks of pain,
They tell of a journey, a weathered terrain,
In every line, a triumph revealed,
In the silent language of scars, sealed.
So let the scars speak, in whispers profound,
Of the strength that in healing, we have found,
For in every scar, a story is etched,
A testament to a life fiercely sketched.
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Featured image credits to TheDigitalArtist on Pixabay