We all have them
In different places.
Maybe we don’t remember when
We got them.
Mystery bruises
That appeared the next day,
Even though it really didn’t hurt.
A nick here or there,
Paper cuts
And other annoying things
Faded by time.
But I have a wound
That is no mystery.
I remember clearly when it came.
The time was hard,
The hardest I’ve ever known.
And this scar,
It hurts to touch it even still.
I wince whenever I see it,
And the pain stabs my heart.
But I fear that over time
The pain
Will begin to fade,
Leaving only a tough, callused scar,
And I will lose all feeling.
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