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Unfolding in Scars

If blood is ink, then my scars are prose,

Written lines that no one knows.

Each mark a verse, each ache a rhyme,

A silent story told in time.

My pain becomes a crafted art,

Each scar a sentence, a piece of heart.

In shadows deep and in the light,

My struggles pen the dark and bright.

So let the ink of hurt unfold,

A tapestry of scars yet untold.

For in each wound, a tale is spun,

A journey of a heart undone.

By Ishani Chhitwal MYP 3D