The curse of mine

by Kenneth   Jul 2, 2008


A past of pain
Leads to a constant state
A state of hate
No joy of happiness
No toys of love
Hate and peace are not bed fellows
A kind word cannot be heard
A gentle touch is asking to much
The pain and mockery
Of a kind souls hypocrisy
A curse I have chosen
A blessing I have bestowed
Curse one and save two
Just what would you do

0


Did You Like This Poem?

Latest Comments