Our knees are grazed but so are our palms,
Our books are torn but full of facts,
Our eyes are wide, gazing at the sights,
And our smiles are still as bright as then.
Our lips are tainted with words,
Words of love,
Words of hurt,
Our bodies are scarred, little stories, a stupid fall,
Our minds are scarred, with love and friendship.
Marks on ourselves, marks that we are proud of,
Marks that tell the stories of us, who we are,
The wind ripples the lake and turns the page,
In the chapters of our lives.