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The Scar
There is a scar that marks me now
that will not go away
It will be my constant reminder
of how I let you play
upon my heartstrings that were taut
tightly stretched upon my breast
plucked by fingers that I loved
that now are put to rest
But I will endure this marking
and I will endure the pain
For dreams can dwindle slowly
though the scar will ere remain
The slackened strings will not vibrate
They will become quite still
The even breathing will return
but the scar's the bitter pill
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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