The Scars We Bare

Teeth and anger did he bare
When the smell of burnt flesh hit the air
A child of hers not to be harmed
But that doesn’t change the scar on my arm
 
Through all of my tiny tears
Did she realize all of her fears?
Courage she did not have until that fateful night
She fought; and she fought with all her might

She left and never looked back
Never again would he attack
With two children and nowhere to go
She felt her life had little to show 

In her safety we did belong
Now all grown I know she was strong
A small reminder remains
From it a strength I have gained

1 comment:

B said...

I know how personal and real this scar is. I am glad you can bare it with a little more pride and dignity. Knowledge is powerful however we use is where the real power lies. May that scar be a badge of survival and honor of the great act of love taken from that cruel moment in time.