This week’s assignment from The Red Dress Club was to write a short piece, either fiction or non-fiction, about something ugly – and find the beauty in it.
Sometimes I rhyme things, and apparently this is one of those times.
In rare times of frustration and brief self-despair,
She claims she is broken and beyond repair.
From surgeries more numerous than fingers to count,
She has her scars on the inside and out.
A neck and a spinal cord basically fused,
Excuses to dwell on this always refused.
Body casts, braces were part of her life,
Part of her role as a mother and wife.
For me I thought surgery was part of the norm,
Something all moms did in one shape or form.
Hiding her scars on the inside and out,
With clothes that concealed and no signs of self-doubt.
In fact, she was always the fun one to see,
The mom on the block you wish your mom could be.
Baseball in summer and raking in fall,
Snowmen in winter and trips to the mall.
Even if she couldn’t do it herself,
(Limited as she was in her own health,)
She made sure all the kids had more fun than they should,
Doing the things that she wished that she could.
I never quite realized the struggles she had,
Physically, mentally, feeling so bad.
As time has gone by I see more of her pain,
Taking it on as my own, yet in vain.
She thinks they are ugly, these scars that she wears,
Constant reminders of what she must bear.
A physical flaw isn’t what comes to mind,
When I see her scars or a mark of that kind.
The scars tell a story of one woman’s life,
As a mother, a daughter, a sister, a wife.
It’s flawed and not perfect, with times of self-doubt,
But beautiful still, on the inside and out.