When you were young, you didn't fear me.
But when you became older you found me, and you really had a scare.
Black or white you didn't care, as long as I wasn't there.
If you try to be rid of me I'll serve you a scar.
It'll make perfect even more far.
And I dare you to, smoke a cigar.
If you do, we might both get worse.
And I might stick around, a hole to be your curse.
What am I?