Scar

Sean Kennedy

I feel regret from how my body's marred,
A rip upon my flesh I loved so much,
The skin still smooth somewhere beneath the scar,
But still it's sensitive; afraid to touch.

But should I weep for imperfection when
Each and every scar in life I've borne
Tells a story about my life till the end:
An epic novel written upon skin torn.

Across my arm, a keepsake I earned
From a friend as our childhood battle burned.
Upon my stomach from when I was a kid,
Never wanted to see the creek; he did.
And yet the greatest tale has yet to be told,
Because the deepest scar will come when I am old.