She was like the rest
but a scar running through her face.
She thought she was not alone
but there was lonely road to walk on.
Her face beamed like the morning sun
Only the mark, like craters
on a worn-out building.
Like the tip of the oldest landmark
broken with use
her spirits tumbled down.
The walls in her heart building high
The screams in her head, now diffused.
Her faith flickers like a strobe light
going high, coming low.
This scar would never leave her alone
following behind, every path she tread
And they would look at her
with disgust
Despise her with words of abuse.
She was like the rest
But she was different
She had only a scar on the face
They, deep inside the soul.
PROMPT GIVEN BY WeDrinkBecauseWeArePoets Poetry Prompt#13 Scars
This week, I would like our topic to be Scars. I want you to write about them, be they physical or emotional, how they shaped you into what you are, how much do they affect you in your day to day lives. I want this poem that you write to be in comparisons to a City. It does not have to be a specific city that exists, more like a place.
Abhilasha Singh 
“Her faith flickers like a strobe light
going high, coming low.”
—This is such an exquisitely descriptive metaphor. I can ‘see’ it and it has huge impact.
Thank you so much 🙂
I really like those last two lines. Insightful observation, especially from someone who takes the brunt of their abuse and acquires emotional scars of her own because of it.
Thanks for reading 🙂
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Those beautiful scars have a powerful voice! 🙂