The Scars on our faces are what relates us,
Though different races.
A hill rises somewhere on your shining
Valley attracting everything light.
Nothing has been right but
That’s a story the slug rarely tells,
Although you’ve climbed.
Claimed victory at the peak—
Of which, we don’t often speak
The Marks on our faces are crafted,
Never draft-ed.
The artist leaving it to be, as it be
A sign of Beauty:
Scars turned around, truly.
I love beauty marks. Beauty marks remind us that a “true artist” (or someone with the right mentality) can come across something that was meant to be a scar, an unappealing mark—a mole—and see it as beauty. It takes courage and a firm, but beautiful, mindset to be able to find yourself among complete chaos, yet still be able to see the beauty in it AND keep your head space and inner peace in tact. So is it a nasty mole or a beauty mark?
Send this to someone who saw beauty in something crappy. Stay safe out there, y’all.
Sircharlesthepoet 
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