You say that you know my scent so well,
Even blinded, that you could discern.
How strange that fragrance is familiar,
To a heart that you'd rather not learn.
Never noticed all the vivid scars,
Which have all been placed within your view.
Nor seen me wince in your careless hands,
When you try to touch them like you do.
And who am I to ask my owner,
(Who even blind, would know me by scent,)
"Sir, do you know where I am right now?"
"Or even how long ago I went?"