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They say time heals everything. It helps scars to shape and keep painful memories inside their rough skin. Each scar proves our learning. Each one proves us stronger.
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So Much We Gain (a poem)
If when lost winds of hope renew
my faith hidden to life appeals,
a thought of you warms not my head
and my blood is not back to red,
I'll know time also spoils what heals;
it hardens hurts and scars us through,
pulls back the hands that reached for stars
and push them deep into the ground.
I know those winds will blow one day,
and I’ll believe in you again.
We’ll pick a star and bring it near,
a time for shining bright and clear
and celebrate the scars of pain,
and tell the tales when times were gray.
The reddest blood will blush our skin.
So much we learn, so much we gain.
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