Do my scars disgust you,
Do they make you turn away,
Does the sight of my wounds
Make you wish I would refrain?
These gaping reminders,
Of battles I've fought before,
Are etched in my skin,
For evidence of what I've endured.
I know they are not pretty,
But each mark tells a story,
Of strength, of perseverance,
Of how I've earned my glory,
They are a part of me,
Not something to be ashamed,
For through these scars I've learned,
I have the power to change.
So don't be disgusted by me,
For I am more than these cuts,
I am a survivor, a warrior,
And through my scars I strut.
YOU ARE READING
Thats Depressing
PoetryPlease understand these are not appropriate for all ages and have to deal with mature themes and depressing things and thoughts.
