Poem #25 - Hidden Scar

From afar,
One cannot tell he has a scar.

But if one is within proximity,
One can most certainly see,
The outline of the scar.

It is hard to believe,
But it hadn't stopped bleeding for a week,
When the blade contact with the skin made,
And his consciousness had begun to fade.

Exactly fourteen stitches he had been given,
On his left cheeck,
So that the blood outflow away could be driven.

If one were to stare at the scar long enough,
One would realize that he had been so very tough,
If one were to imagine the pain,
That could drive anyone completely insane.
The sympathetic may begin to weep.
As the gash still looks so real and deep.

But now a mask he wears,
So that people won't know,
Of the pain he still bears.

In hiding is now his injury,
But not his anger and his fury,
On the person who did this to him,
But now was not the time to be grim.
For he was going to visit the woman he loved very much,
And today was the day,
He would tell her so as much.

The End