"Love cannot be learned except within the classroom of respect"

-- H. Vanoy Barton

Scars

by
H. Vanoy Barton

I wear my medals well,
but, I wear my scars better.
They are what defines me,
what I purchased with my soul,
what refines the air I breathe,
what is my surcease and my keep,
what I earned that can never be lost or stolen away.

I earned 'em every which a way,
got 'em from fights, got 'em from political strife,
got 'em from ex-wives,
got 'em on the battlefield,
got 'em by keepin' my lips sealed,
got a bunch from runnin' the streets,
got a bunch more from tryin' to make the big score,
got 'em from chasing the big brass ring,
got some more from deep dark corridors of devious minds,
got a lot from people that said they were friends of mine.

Yeah, I love my scars,
gotta love 'em, each one found paradise,
gotta love 'em, cuz I felt each slice,
gotta love 'em, they are all I have left,
gotta love 'em, they are life's great gift.

Scars sure beat medals and accolades,
sure beat success, fortune and fame,
sure beat a smiling face and loving arms at the end of the day,
sure beat a place to lay your head and call home,
nothing better than counting scars, and dying alone.