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.
But for several years after, 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 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.
