Battle Scars

August 11, 2014

Life is just a bowl of cherries, someone said.

Easy to breeze on through,

Come out unscathed on the other side.

If only it were true.

When I was born, a tiny little

dark brown birthmark mole

Was the only mark upon me.

It was planted on my sole.

My first battle was with chicken pox.  

I was but a very young child.

A small circle mark on the side of my nose

Proved my case was very mild.

At age eight I was running on gravel

And a fall took its toll on me,

A deep circular scab that I kept picking

Left a big scar on my knee.

Then a year later I fell off a bike

And the handlebar hit my gut.

A semi-circle mark was left

After it healed from the original cut.

Poison oak left a tiny white circle

At the base of one of my toes.

For several years afterward, I was

Free from physical woes.

A ring snagged on my finger 

After eight or ten years.

Just a small stripe now reminds me

Of that moment when I shed tears.

A few more years and my gallbladder

Caused pain when it went all wrong.

Surgery left an abominable

Abdominal mark a foot long.

Many years passed with no new visible scars

And I felt pretty good about things.

I had no idea of the battles I'd fight

When cancer entered the ring.

 A lumpectomy left my left breast

Much smaller than the right.

Port installation left a wound

That will always be in sight.

That about brings me up-to-date

With my wounds and scars of life.

Some battles were large, some battles were small,

Some earned during times of great strife.

We enter mortality flawless

In body, in spirit, in mind,

But life drags us all through the wringer

And leaves battle scars behind.

Now don't let me start

On the scars of my heart.