It is small,
shaped like a moon crater, and
sits prominently
on my left cheek
when I smile.
There had been a purplish
scab.
My son had given me
chicken pox.
Desiring perfection, I had
nicked it.
I used to cover it
with foundation
but couldn't get used to
that chalky brown mask.
I just came to accept
that motherhood
often leaves
scars.
What can I do with this title?
Comments
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I love this write...The last stanza says it all...yes motherhood leaves many scars and always will, but it brings many joys as well...so times it is a strange place to be and understand...
you wrote this so well and the metaphor and flow are wonderful...
All the best,
mystic
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I guess its the most special gift to a woman
That feeling should be awesome.. a nice poem.. tribute rather Well done.. Welcome to allpoetry!!
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okay
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