The scars from battle’s fought take a toll. Each handle demons in a different way. A vicious swipe with a cane, or hefty swig of alcohol. A punishing comment, a nervous twitch, all might be seen. A scarred wrist, a stooping posture, a discreet desire. We all tried to conceal them, but fail. Until the bell calls. We enter classrooms. Chalk dust flies as spiders weave webs. Dreams may be broken but life continues.