English / Me / Poems (by me) / Reflections

My scars, my story


Broken spirits,

Prisoners of the past,

Heads hanging in shame,

Trying to hide their ugliness,

Only themselves they blame.

They wear their scars,

Like chains around their neck,

Hand tied together,

Feet held back.

My soul maybe wounded,

But my courage soars high,

I will not follow their fate,

I refuse to be a prisoner,

My life will not be defined by hate.

So,

I break all the shackles,

I escape the past,

I am nobody’s victim,

I wear no masks,

My scars are my crown,

My memento of strength,

Each jewel whispers a story,

You just have to ask …

One thought on “My scars, my story

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