We have many scars you and I
that tell stories of our past
from injuries old and new.
Scraped knees as children,
falls off of bikes, perhaps even a surgery or two.
My newest and most visable scar
is a red line running vertically up my left cheek.
Most people would hide it, cover it with makeup,
it is not something they would want to keep.
But I in some strange way treasure this scar
The mark has a different meaning for me.
It is an outward sign of a terrible wound
A wound that the world can't see.
Some scars are deeper
then we can see with our eyes
Hurts and trauma, pains from the past.
They have cut across our very hearts
and changed who we are...
changed the person we were in the past.
You can't see the scar I carry inside
even though it is still gaping and red
The healing process is painfully slow,
how could it go faster?
my son is dead.
The pain of my loss will never go completely away
it will forever be a part of me now
an image of grief etched upon my soul
my cross to carry until we arrive in the streets of gold.