The Scar

A poem

I have a scar I keep hidden,

Behind my laughs and my smile.

You see my bright eyes 

and don’t know that they’re lies,

That I’m hurting inside all the while.

 

I’ve had some bumps and some bruises,

Though I wasn’t that clumsy by far.

And why can’t you see, 

that while, yes, he hit me;

It's HATE that gave me the scar!

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[Woja]

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