Still a scar remains, though hidden from view,

the mind not letting go.

A boy now a man, still remembers the day,

a crushing blow split his face.

It came from one he trusted and thought he loved,

at least as love was understood.

The pain was numbing, too much to comprehend,

blood gushed from his face.

Unsure whether to cry or run, bravely he stood,

not breaking the stare.

The man’s transgression now filled him with shame,

“I’m sorry” he proclaimed.

There it is, the man’s abuse the boy withstood,

not broken only scarred.

When their eyes met again, both knew the secret and the score,

shared by none but not forgotten.

A shifting of scales, today the boy walks his head held high,

tomorrow it begins again.

Will he stay lucky?


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