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Why Must I Hide?

This poem reflects on the silent struggles women endure and the scars they carry—often hidden—yet powerful in their strength and resilience.


Why must I, a woman, tuck away each scar,
Keep battles buried, no matter how far?
Does it shrink me, weaken my worth,
To wear these marks of the wars I've birthed?

I’ve seen these boys with heads held high,
Boasting of strength if a fever goes by,
Or chest out, proud, from some shallow scrape,
While I’m asked to silence each wound, each ache.

They tell me to smile, not show the cracks,
As if my pain’s a burden, or grace I lack.
Yet I’ve stood through storms that would have them yield,
Facing each fury with no sword or shield.

Why should I pretend, cover the truth,
When I faced battles alone, in my youth?
Every scar I wear is a badge, a name,
A testament, not of shame, but flame.

So no, I won’t hide or cast them away—
These marks are proof of the dues I pay.
I’m woman, I’m warrior, wounded but whole,
Bearing tales of courage, wearing them bold.


How do you feel about the scars you carry—both visible and invisible? Do they tell your story of strength and survival too?

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