Of Scars and Vice and The Not So Nice

plant

Oh so oft and
Every so often,
Having trudged
And finally arrived –
Perchance you hear
Albeit say,
If it wasn’t for
The difficult times
You’d never know
The strength you have
Or the wisdom you share.
……..A sad irony
Yet, not true
Not true.

I was always brave,
I thought a bit too much
And with care,
Cared a tad too much
And so I bear
The scar of ignominy –
Scarred by the vice
Of the not so nice.
I’d be the same
Brave, wise, caring
I mean
Yet, Happier still
If it hadn’t been –
For the vice of the not so nice.

 

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