My face is not made up,
but is bright, expressive, and usually smiling.
My hair isn’t fancy,
but soft, thick, and dare I say attractive?
My voice is the best,
steady and warm,
but the question is…
How does it hide
the scars inside?
—
A Quadrille in response to De’s “scar” prompt at
dVerse.
I believe the deepest scars are invisible, and that’s why they are scars–because we don’t like to acknowledge them.
Mystical Strings 
we people hide our pain? but why? to protect ourselves? or to protect others?
We learn to act so well to hide the scars inside – we’re all up for an Oscar because we’re so good at it!
Oh those scars we carry inside our heart! Beautifully poignant ❤️
It’s not as easy as people think. I can remember my grandmother telling me to put a smile on my face and wondering how when I felt so bad. But we do it – and those scars knit us up from the inside out. My answer is to talk about it, even if it’s just the cat.
Your poem is a reminder that when what we see on someone’s outside does not always match what’s inside.
Stunning! We are but all window dressing for what is inside. It reminds me that during this Christmas season, full of tinsel, cheerful and hopeful music, consumerism that runs rampantly glitzy…..this can be a very difficult season for some.
There’s much more beneath our surface…pain and shame make us want to hide.
I think we are all hiding them! Or believing that we are.