The ungrateful son is a wart on his father's face; to leave it is a blemish, to cut it off is pain.
Related quotes
The ungrateful son is like a wart on his father's face; to leave it there is unsightly, to cut it off is painful.
An ungrateful son is a wart on his father's nose -- he leaves it, it's ugly, he removes it, it hurts.
Ready To Leave
My life is screwed my days are dome I need to die to have some fun
I need to die and leave this place and meet my father face to face!
My father is the devil you see and the evil in him is the evil in me, and no holy man can get him out of me, because its in my blood and its in my soul and the only way to get rid of it is to get rid of me hole,
my father is great my father is fun instead of sitting in a church reading a book to worship him you kill random people and spend the money you took, instead of caring about the living you talk to the dead and blow off peoples head,
so im ready to go is ready to leave so I can meet my father and finally be free.
poem by Amber Vasquez

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Father Of Night
Father of night, father of day,
Father, who taketh the darkness away,
Father, who teacheth the bird to fly,
Builder of rainbows up in the sky,
Father of loneliness and pain,
Father of love and father of rain.
Father of day, father of night,
Father of black, father of white,
Father, who build the mountain so high,
Who shapeth the cloud up in the sky,
Father of time, father of dreams,
Father, who turneth the rivers and streams.
Father of grain, father of wheat,
Father of cold and father of heat,
Father of air and father of trees,
Who dwells in our hearts and our memories,
Father of minutes, father of days,
Father of whom we most solemnly praise.
song performed by by Bob Dylan

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ready to leave
My life is screwed my day's are done I need to die to have some fun
I need to die and leave this place and meet my father face to face!
My father is the devil you see and the evil in him is the evil in me,
and no holy man can get him out of me,
because its in my blood and its in my soul and the only way to get rid of it is to get rid of me hole, silver bullet pierce my chest put me down put me to rest,
my father is great my father is fun instead of sitting in a church reading a book
to worship him you kill random people and spend the money you took,
instead of caring about the living you talk to the dead and blow off peoples head,
so i'm ready to go is ready to leave so I can meet my father and finally be free.
poem by Liera Bloodheart

Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm Still My Father's Child
When I lost my father I put myself under the fatherless, but
Now I know he had to go for me to realise that
I’ve always been blessed with two fathers
When I lost my father I thought everybody you love is bound to leave
But now I know he was just here for a purpose and he had to go
For me to realise that I have a Father that will never leave nor forsake me
When I lost my father I thought it was the end of what we had, but
Now I realise that our relationship was a parable. He has to leave
For me to practice what he taught me with my eternal Father
When I lost my father I thought nobody will ever fill his space, but
He had to leave for me to know my Heavenly Father
For us to have a close relationship that we have now
When I lost my father I though God had taken him away from me, but
Now I understand that he had to go for me
To remain my Father’s child forever.
I AM MY FATHER’S CHILD
poem by Sihle KaPhila Zulu

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I love my father
My father
Is my friend...
In childhood...
I love my father
More and more...
I am a yelder son
For my father...
I asking toys...
I asking sweets...
More and more
At my father....
My father tell
About the stores
At god...
And ramayana...
And mahabarath...
I was enjoy
My father tell story...
Enjoy enjoy...
Today my father
Live my heart only
At my heart...
My father not pass away
He was leave my home
At sumall photo pream
But...
my father leave with my
Sence and thinking...
I love my father...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar

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Don't be ungrateful
He who turns ungrateful
To his benefactor
Is worse than a cur
He is not fit to live in this world
He is a dirty scar on the face of humanity
Realizing one's gratitude
Saves one from
embarrassment
and curses
Which may rain down upon one
If one turns ungrateful.
poem by Mohammad Akmal Nazir

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Real Life Tale Of An Ungrateful Daughter
an ungrateful poor daughter blames her father
her mother sad died thirty-two long years ago
her mother did not choose to suffer illness die
was not mother’s fault choice to daughter leave
daughter in bitterness hate life torments father
her father worked two three jobs her education to pay
her poor father said study succeed attend university
she wanted to spend money work in Texas chicken
she married a shiftless dreamer saying play party angles
her father helped raise their two children in his home
she appreciates nothing saved not never to buy her home
she appreciates not years her family lived with her father
she appreciates not her eldest daughter her father raised
this daughter her husband accept no responsibility blame
daughter says if mother were alive life would be different
poem by Terence George Craddock

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The Fish & The Wart
The fish, a lonely creature
With only one good feature
Which was (yeah yeah)
A small wart on his face (yeah yeah)
Chorus:
And the fish in the sea couldnt find in themselves to deal with the wart
They were just fish I mean fish!
(yeah yeah)
Chorus repeats x 2
But arent we all just lonely fish with warts on our faces?
Chorus repeats x 4
(slowly fades)
song performed by by Good Charlotte

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fish And The Wart
the fish, a lonely creature
With only one good feature
Which was (yeah yeah)
A small wart on his face (yeah yeah)
Chorus:
And the fish in the sea couldn't find in themselves to deal with the wart
They were just fish i mean fish!
(yeah yeah)
Chorus repeats x 2
But aren't we all just lonely fish with warts on our faces?
Chorus repeats x 4
(slowly fades)
song performed by by Good Charlotte

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead Boys Poem
The child sits and weeps,
How could this be all that matters,
Why did this have to hurt so deep,
How could this be life?
The child sits with the pain inside,
He sits with his heart in his chest,
‘How could I have died? ’
Is all he thinks, he forgets the rest.
The child’s eyes closed so tight,
His fists clenched so strong
He feels the night,
He knows everything that happened was wrong.
The child stands and looks into the houses light
He stares at not the window,
Not at the sight,
Yet only for the weeping widow.
The child stands holding the gun,
The gun he died holding,
As he remembers his father killing him, his only son
He remembers his father scolding.
He knows he took a life,
Yet he knows his father took his,
He remembers not the taking of his father’s life,
Only the pain of his father stealing his.
His eyes so dark,
His mind so lost,
His hand tracing deaths mark,
As he remembers it’s cost.
He remembers the scene, the time,
He remembers the look in his father’s face,
He remembers doing the crime,
He remembers seeing the pain in his father’s face.
But then his memory stops,
And reality takes place,
For this is when he dropped,
This is when life left his face.
He walks past,
To eternity; to roam
Of all his memories this shall be his last
For this is the dead boy’s poem.
poem by Bethany Maxwell

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My father, My father
My father, my father,
I love he,
my father, my father,
made me see,
how beautiful this world really can be.
My father, my father,
said to me,
my daughter my daughter,
come see me,
I wont be around forever, and i have things that must be.
My father, my father,
dont die on me.
[I wrote this while my father was in the hospital, I'm sorry to say he never got to leave. R.I.P October 7,08.]
poem by Dakota Ellerton

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Pain Holds With An Iron Grip
The pain grows every minute,
And I grow tired of keeping it at bay.
I want the pain to flow from my arms,
I want the pain to leave my body,
Leave the broken heart,
Leave the broken soul,
That it has found,
To make it's new home.
The tears continuously fall from my face,
Hoping to rid of the pain,
But the longer the tears flow,
The harder the pain holds on,
Keeping an iron grip,
And refusing to ever let go.
poem by Chelsea Lybbert

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What Kind Of Father Are You?
Do a father leave his three daughter down and dry
Do a father come only three times out of a year
What kind of father are you?
Should a father leave his daughters just to take care of an other women son and daughter...
What kind of father are you?
Can a father broke a promise that he promise 10 years ago
Should a father be ashame of his three daughter looks or weight
If so what kind of father are you?
poem by Valentine White

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12/09....Pain
Pain...............
It has many forms, some hurt worse than others
Some cause you to bleed, while others make you cry
Some make you want to die, or be dead, while
others just make you want to stay in bed
Pain, its like a bee stinging you in the face
Pain, its like someone sprayin you with mace
Pain, its like having your best friend die
Pain, its like biting into a hot piece of pie
Pain, its like a knife tearing your skin
Pain, its like not having any friends
Pain, its like having your heart ripped in two
Pain, its like not knowing what to do
Pain, is a common thing for me
Pain, it fills my life with sorrow and misery
Pain, it makes me want to cry everyday
Pain, it makes me feel the worst way
Pain, it drives my life and the things I do
Pain..........please leave me alone!
poem by Sacred Garden

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Selfishness rules
There is a girl to woo
And an elephant to flee,
In a jungle.
Which will you do?
A kind mother and a harsh father.
Whom do you obey?
A friend in aisle and a critic to face.
Whom do you support?
A reliable servant
And a demanding master.
Whom do you stand by?
Introspect. You are ungrateful,
As good as a beast.
13.07.2001, Pkd
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

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Farewell, Ungrateful Traitor!
Farewell, ungrateful traitor!
Farewell, my perjur'd swain!
Let never injur'd woman
Believe a man again.
The pleasure of possessing
Surpasses all expressing,
But 'tis too short a blessing,
And love too long a pain.
'Tis easy to deceive us
In pity of your pain,
But when we love, you leave us
To rail at you in vain.
Before we have descried it,
There is no joy beside it,
But she that once has tried it
Will never love again.
The passion you pretended
Was only to obtain,
But once the charm is ended,
The charmer you disdain.
Your love by ours we measure
Till we have lost our treasure,
But dying is a pleasure
When living is a pain.
poem by John Dryden

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Farewell Ungrateful Traitor
Farewell ungrateful traitor,
Farewell my perjured swain,
Let never injured creature
Believe a man again.
The pleasure of possessing
Surpasses all expressing,
But 'tis too short a blessing,
And love too long a pain.
'Tis easy to deceive us
In pity of your pain,
But when we love you leave us
To rail at you in vain.
Before we have descried it,
There is no bliss beside it,
But she that once has tried it
Will never love again.
The passion you pretended
Was only to obtain,
But when the charm is ended
The charmer you disdain.
Your love by ours we measure
Till we have lost our treasure,
But dying is a pleasure,
When living is a pain.
poem by John Dryden

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Tears Of Pain
Tears of pain stream down my although I know you're in a better place
Wishing I could see your face..,
Tears of pain stream down my face, I know you won the race.
All your pain finally ends, you and I were close friends,
Tears of pain stream down my face, I'll still be here in the end,
Tears of pain stream down my face this is something I can't take.
It wasn't fare for you to go; I have never felt a deeper hole.
Tears of pain stream down my face I feel
Your presence, in my place
I sure do miss that smiling face,
Tears of pain stream down my face,
You were the brightness to fill my greys,
Tears of pain stream down my face
I miss the feeling of embrace,
When looking at your wonderful face
Tears of pain stream down my face.
It came to soon, but your alright I try to talk to you every night.
now I know you're in a better place, The tears of pain have withered away.
poem by Raeanne Runyemba

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