I was traveling through life.
I thought I was all right;
Then, I fell and cut my knee.
It bled,
The wound was deep.
When it finally healed,
There was a scar.

At last, my journey resumed.
I was doing just fine;
Then, I was caught in a storm.
It rained.
The wind blew hard,
Threw me against a wall;
Another scar.

Oh, these many scars of mine,
Incurred as I have lived;
I thought they might be ugly;
Then learned
They’re for beauty,
Like etchings or stained glass;
Lines in carvings.

I truly don’t understand
How this happens at all;
That life brings us injury
And scars
That turn lovely
As we become mature;
Such mystery!


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