Battle Scars #Poem #AmWriting

Photo credit: Nicolas Raymond via Creative Commons
Photo credit: Nicolas Raymond via Creative Commons

They came for me

With sticks, stones and barbs.

They cut me to the flesh

Deep, raw and painful to the core.

In agony, I waited for the pain to subside

Thinking at the time that it would never, ever leave.

Some days it took hours,

Other days it took but minutes

For the skin to grow back

covering up the open wounds, but leaving

the scars behind.

 

To them I was easy prey

For I never struck back.

Every time they hit me harder

I would retreat further into my shell.

Shielding myself from the blows that fell

I curled into a foetal ball, seeking comfort

In the cocoon of my self.

 

Quiet, but made stronger by my ordeal.

 

As time went by

I learnt to deal with  the blows.

I learnt not to place myself

In the midst of the battlefield.

 

Instead, off to the side stood I

And watched the blood flow on the ground.

Shattered by the meaningless wasteland,

I shuddered at the weapons that lay spent.

 

In our world these battles are real

The scars that words leave

Are there for few to see.

 

But if you can take a moment

Just a second to

Pause

Think

Reflect

And then reply

Imagine a world then

Where the scars fade

Because there is nobody left

To cast the first blow.

 

There’s you

There’s me

And there is a world between us.

 

In that space

There is a point called the meeting ground.

Let’s make the battle scars

A thing of the past.

 

~© Shailaja Vishwanath