Scars
Remember that scar on my right arm? You gave to me when I was eight,
That time I tried to stop you from hitting Ma - you pinned me down with your weight,
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I cried in fear, I begged you to set me free,
All the while you told me all the painful things that you would do to me,
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You grabbed that blade and showed me how it could do crimson harm,
Told me, if I ever tried to stop you again, you'd chop off my fucking arm,
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Eight years later and my arm is still intact,
I use it everyday to everything - like writing this here poem, in fact,
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You might have left me a scar, but that never stopped me from keep on going,
I have so many of them from you, but none of them visible or showing,
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I never planned on doing this, writing you a letter,
But I just wanted you to know, life without you is much fucking better,
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I've grown up now, I'm a man in case you didn't know,
So in case you ever decide to swing by Ma again, I'll tell you how it'll go;
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First I pin you down - then take out my shiny knife and utter;
'If you ever leave another scar on me and Ma, I'll cut your head off and leave your corpse rotting in the gutter.'
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