Saturday, November 16, 2013

The Shining Scar

On the deep forehead shines a bright scar
from her helter-skelter days-
etched by a bicycle and wild hours.
I touch the bruise, and muse, fills me with amuse.
And depicts the mischiefs of her youth.
Shy not away from it’s gaze,
it hoards old memories and the truth.

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