The beauty of scars

The beauty of scars is a story untold,

Lines etched in time, both fragile and bold.

Each mark a memory, each stitch a song,

Whispering of battles, where we belonged.

They speak of the past, of pain, of loss,

Of strength found in silence, and healing's cost.

Not merely reminders of wounds once deep,

But of resilience found in moments we weep.

Scars hold the secrets of what we’ve endured,

The fights we’ve fought and what we've secured.

A testament to the fire we've survived,

A symbol of the will to stay alive.

Each one a fingerprint of life's design,

A delicate map that tells us we’re fine.

For in every line, in each faded trace,

Is a beauty that time cannot erase.

They speak not of shame, but of battles won,

Of journeys taken and what’s yet to come.

For the beauty of scars, though worn and old,

Is the strength in the story they silently unfold.