Scars

The scars that line my arms and face,
Are old wounds reminding me of that day.
The day when the fires burned and the children cried
Was the day that all I had,
Was lost to me forever.

The little girl, whose face was so
Innocent and pure.
The old man, whose mind and heart were so
Full of kindness and love.
The freind, who always had my back,
Left without even saying goodbye.

That was back then,
When these scars didn't run down my arms,
Before the fires, that took them away from me.
But now their gone and one false move,
Will bring me back to them.

I took that jump and heard the children cry,
One more time.
The doctor looked but did not see,
The scars that retell that tragic day.

The scars are below the skin,
Where they hurt more than,
The new scars I can see,
Under the lights of the hospital,
On that tragic day.