Scars
Scars
Through blood browned rain
crawling scratched and scarred
we proudly embrace the pain
through both skirmish and war
beside those who can't know
and bleed in no way that’s real
doctoring half-imagined flaws
and fussing over gourmet meals
playing at lives that echo empty
their souls as dead as any shell
lain too long on the beach
soon to become sand, as well.
By Jeanne MacGregor Lahn
This poem was written by Jeanne Lahn on Oct 30, 2004.
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