I bear the scar of the moonlit doe
Soft and breathing peace,
The roaring of the crowd
My heart beating with the base.
I bear the scar of words of old
Written in flowing rhyme,
Of brand new worlds in new ideas
That change my point of view.
I bear the scar of frenzied tasks
Accomplished and full of pride,
And the still, quiet moments
Where I question why am I.
I bear the scar of friends and foes,
Of hugs and hate-filled words,
Every bittersweet goodbye
And every teary hello.
I bear the scar of what could have been
And all that used to be,
Of my family's truths of yesteryear
That took root inside of me.
I bear the scar of ones that got away
And ones I never kissed,
The ones who held me too tightly,
And the ones who ran too fast.
I bear the scar of the look in your eyes,
And the tight hold of your hand,
Of your whispered words of sweetest love,
And promises to always stay.
Each day as I breathe in and out
These things that make me me,
I'll proudly wear this tapestry
Of the battle scars of life.