A fresh wound found a home, besides a burried one,
a matured scar found a younger self, it could mother.
It was their first meeting,
amid tired emotions,
just after all water was shed.
Scar said, “I am your future, but we both are the same…
…i am pregnant with memory and you are with pain”
Wound said, ” Maybe, but i feel we are different…
…i came as a guest and you grew up in this home”
Scar said, “A grave doesn’t grow….
…but memories do return to pay respects.”
“Not in flowers, but with tears.”