Scars and memories
Living leaves marks
Scars and memories
Evidence of whims and larks

The stupidity of youth with joy coupled
Frees from gravity’s constraint
Those of a mind to be alive
To truly be being not just ain’t

There’s a game of tag on my elbow
A doorframe on my head
A tree climb resides upon my breast
All these signs that I’m not dead

Fingers and hearts that reach out,
Yearnings to be twain and not one,
Find warmth to the touch,
Lonely is the night, love the sun

Then comes betrayal and loss,
Sweetness goes acrid and vile,
Off to find new love we go,
Pining for the past all the while

Age creeps in to seal the deal
Risks seem greater, life shorter
Weighed down with all this baggage
So tired and where’s the porter?

Can I bear another hurt?
Will this frame survive another cut?
It darn well better, my friend
Cause I ain’t dead yet!

Scars and memories
Give me more
Scars and memories
‘Til I’m out the door