Other's ask why do i have scars?

People say where did those come from?

They tell of so many things in my life.

Marks and lines that tell my life's tale.

Things i have done and places i have seen.

Sickness i battled and love stories gone astray.

They are a story in themselves.

Some on the outside some carried within.

They sit with us as reminders of many things.

If mine could tell a story they would tell of adventures and also pain.

They would speak of illness and accidents.

They would whisper of the ones i hold tucked away inside.

Things that i chose not to mention, but to hide.

My scars tell my tale.

Some are large and angry, some a faint white line.

some are carried inside and a few faded with time.

When people ask what's that from?

I say that's a memory from a past day.

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