Scars Poem by david lessard

I've several scars;
three tattoos (left wrist, right forearm, left shoudler) .
Two I have since removed by laser beams,
which left me with two new scars.
I also have a scar from when they removed my spleen (due to a car accident in '66) .
It almost took my life.
But here I am. bouncy and happy at the ripe age of 67.
Some of my other scars are invisible.
Like four failed marriages,
a drinking problem,
a cigarette habit
and things of another nature I'd rather not divulge at this point and time...
suffice it to say that they are all past reminders of times in my life when things or events controlled me,
instead of the other way around.
Yet, on reflection, without some scars,
how could healing ever take place?
Without imperfections,
how could we ever strive for perfection itself?
I acknowledge my scars, both visible and invisible.
And I strive for perfection,
even though I realize that I am imperfect,
because I know, that in doing so,
I reach out to God.

And that's always good.