What have we become

Scarred faces we hide behind,
As images of beauty run through my mind.
I walk in side, my hands are trembling,
I'm ready for the weeks of mending.

Remember the times of naturalism,
My face was like a shining prism.
The skin of my body, so free, so real,
Then came across the painful steel.

I used to love the many mirrors,
But one by one they disappear.
My scarred face, it wont go away,
I'm no longer safe to be seen in the day.

I'll never be perfect, I now can see,
But still, I'll never again be me.
Images of beauty still run through my mind,
But still this scarred face I hide behind.

Aly Philps