Scars

Scars, Scars, Scars
The scars on my arms are not best
Because one day I might cut my artery and go to rest.
It's not good to take the bait,
From someone who isn't great.
Because when I do,
I feel like a dumb, slow, mini elf.
So again,
the scars on my arms are not the best
Because one day I might cut my artery and go to rest.
So these are my scars.
Scars, Scars, Scars

This poem is about: 
Me

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