Cursed
I know I will never find love and happiness.
I know I meant for a life of sad loneliness.
I am broken and torn time and time again.
I am turning black from deep within.
I am hanging on by a single thread.
I know that I am better off dead.
Every one hates me and thinks i'm weird.
I will never belong here.
I can't take the pain away.
I try to with this silver blade.
Yet here you come to make it worse.
Making it known that I am cursed.
Cursed to a life of dread.
Cursed to be found dead.
If you read this it might be the last thing you read.
For I feel this is the end for me.
poem by Jean Pullman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
H's Soul
I wonder what happened to Hitler's Soul
As children cursed it around the world
At breakfast tables, under hidden floors
And at the oven doors
Lovers cursed it in their ecstasy throes
Soldiers cursed it, spitting on their boots
Marching in life and death parades
As their mothers cursed him too
Begging his Soul to be damned in Hell
Consigned with Generals that cursed it well
Where did it go, that very special Soul
Was there a space, a prison cell
Padded by the silence of his screams
That echo in our darkest dreams?
poem by Frank Bana
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cursed
I have been cursed.
From the very early start.
Rape and abuse.
Hurt and pain.
Is all I've ever known.
I have been left cursed.
By the seedy thing you did.
Left with flashbacks.
Left with hell.
Unable to trust.
Unable to forget
Cant move on
I am cursed by you.
By what you did to me
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mystery To Unfold!
First the world betrayed
Then dejected by my own heart
The game of sorrows fate played
Torn my heart and soul apart!
North mark, the eternal guide
Has always been the evidence
Of a cursed glide
A cursed and joyless life.
Says the world, God owns our luck
He has all our fate and life in command.
But thinks my mind, hones He only
His motive of doing best for us.
But poor human psyche, heart and mind
I weep and howl over what I find!
poem by Alok Mishra
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Blessed To Be Cursed
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste.
Am I cursed or blessed?
At times I feel in between.
And aging hasn't made this attraction,
Any easier for me...
It seems.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
I awaken early,
With thoughts that seem...
Already out of date.
Already out of time.
Already...
I feel I am too late.
Bombarded I am,
With images that feed.
And some I feel,
I am not yet ready to taste...
Although I enjoy,
Achieving those impossible dreams.
Am I cursed or blessed?
OR blessed to be cursed?
Is it possible to enjoy something,
And not quench that thirst?
And I think to myself...
'What am I getting out of this?
How am I benefitting,
When I am the last to think of myself first! '
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
John Ballard
In the lust of my strength
I cursed God, but he paid no attention to me:
I might as well have cursed the stars.
In my last sickness I was in agony, but I was resolute
And I cursed God for my suffering;
Still He paid no attention to me;
He left me alone, as He had always done.
I might as well have cursed the Presbyterian steeple.
Then, as I grew weaker, a terror came over me:
Perhaps I had alienated God by cursing him.
One day Lydia Humphrey brought me a bouquet
And it occurred to me to try to make friends with God,
So I tried to make friends with Him;
But I might as well have tried to make friends with the bouquet.
Now I was very close to the secret,
For I really could make friends with the bouquet
By holding close to me the love in me for the bouquet
And so I was creeping upon the secret, but --
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sadness To Loneliness
This is not the life I wanted for us,
Nor the pain that settles in.
Am over welled by sadness,
Cursed by loneliness.
We were the perfect peas to each others port.
The sunrise to our sunset.
You the rose of my garden, I was the root to your happiness, but
It all came stomping down like thunder rolls.
A shock wave of bitterness slap me,
With a tone I couldn't respond to.
Jealous and envy came to play but am not a player to this type of game.
Gossip in the air increase my sadness and loneliness.
We had a tree growing together now the branches is falling apart.
My days are empty
My nights are colds,
Still wondering where I went wrong with my rose.
My endevers was only tears of joy for you
And satisfied your needs in every way possible.but my life is torn apart.
Now my sadness is growing to loneliness.
Never thought I would lost my rose but now the petals is slowly falling.
What we had was big but going to miss the small things.
Never meant for things to end this way but my sadness has turn into loneliness....
poem by Donavan Avril
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Know What You Know
I know what you know
I am not inferior to you.
Do not look down on me
We are all homosapiens.
Divinely created as God's image
God rates us all equally.
I have sights like you
I walk like you
I think like you.
I may be black,
I may be white,
I may be coloured,
I may even be red
I am God's creation
My senses are the same like
Differences in skin pigmention
Does not make me inferior
We are the same
So, deal with me on what I know
So, deal with jewels inside me
Relate with me on my knowledge
Deal with me according to my capacity
I will reciprocate the same
We are bound to respect each other
I am not cursed
My generation is not cursed
My land is not cursed
I am endowed like you
My ancestors land is blessed
I know what you know
I am not inferior to you
poem by Babatunde Aremu
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Giving Up (The Last Script)
Long ago I wrote a script
About how I hate to write,
It is called A Cursed Gift
You will find it on this site.
About how I hate finding the words
That hurt me deep within my heart,
How I want this skill to end right now
Leave my hand, let us part.
How I hate to write about love
And how the pain follows near,
How I never want to find the words
The painful words I deathly fear.
I really don't want to love again
So I can avoid the following break,
I said I was tired of finding words
'In which I write as I shake.'
Love is cruel with hurtful pains
But writing it is the worst,
I'm giving up on all of it
Love, pain, and gift so cursed.
poem by Adam McKim
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Curse
I am cursed and I know it,
Every time when you look in my eyes you can see how sad I am,
I need to find myself,
There are curses forces between us,
My hands are full of blood that no one can’t see,
Seeing you makes wanna choke,
Seeing you makes me sick,
You keep on slipping away,
The further you slip the further I don’t remember you,
I do declare war on you,
You made me realize how worthless you are to me,
What can I do make you see how much I despite you with every beat of my heart,
You cursed me the day I ever met you,
I curse you the next girl kisses breaks your heart as you did mine.
poem by Jennifer Rondeau
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mother
Ash falls on the roof
of my house.
I have cursed you enough
in the lines of my poems
& between them,
in the silences which fall
like ash-flakes
on the watertank
from a smog-bound sky.
I have cursed you
because I remember
the smell of Joy
on a sealskin coat
& because I feel
more abandoned than a baby seal
on an ice floe red
with it's mother's blood.
I have cursed you
as I walked & prayed
on a concrete terrace
high above the street
because whatever I pulled down
with my bruised hand
from the bruising sky,
whatever lovely plum
came to my mouth
you envied
& spat out.
Because you saw me in your image,
because you favored me,
you punished me.
It was only a form of you
my poems were seeking.
Neither of us knew.
For years
we lived together in a single skin.
We shared fur coats.
We hated each other
as the soul hates the body
for being weak,
as the mind hates the stomach
for needing food,
as one lover hates the other.
I kicked
in the pouch of your theories
like a baby kangaroo.
I believed you
on Marx, on Darwin,
on Tolstoy & Shaw.
I said I loved Pushkin
(you loved him).
I vowed Monet
was better than Bosch.
Who cared?
I would have said nonsense
to please you
& frequently did.
This took the form,
of course,
of fighting you.
We fought so gorgeously!
We fought like one boxer
& his punching bag.
We fought like mismatched twins.
We fought like the secret sharer
& his shade.
Now we're apart.
Time doesn't heal
the baby to the womb.
Separateness is real
& keeps on growing.
One by one the mothers
dropp away,
the lovers leave,
the babies outgrow clothes.
Some get insomnia -
the poet's disease -
& sit up nights
nursing
at the nipples
of their pens.
I have made hot milk
& kissed you where you are.
I have cursed my curses.
I have cleared the air.
& now I sit here writing,
breathing you.
poem by Erica Jong
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard
What, barren here! in this so good a soil?
The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil
From giving thee his blessing; barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Art thou not planted by the water-side?
Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified?
The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree:
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too,
Will neither patience nor yet dressing do?
The executioner is come, O tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
He that about thy roots takes pains to dig,
Would, if on thee were found but one good fig,
Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be!
The utmost end of patience is at hand,
'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand.
O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree.
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Thy standing nor they name will help at all;
When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall.
The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree!
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
poem by John Bunyan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Cupids Dead
-you read the papers today? -
I read the news today oh boy,
About a tragic comedy
Newspaper hinted suicide,
The letterhead read dear johnny
A tainted truth was all it said,
Sleep tight now that
Youve made your bed
An arrow that once pierced your heart
Points to the apple on your head
Three sides to every story
Yours, mine
And, monday mornings
Cupids dead, headlines read,
Cupids dead
Cupids dead, headlines read,
Cupids dead
Oh, romeo, oh, romeo
Where did our love go, romeo?
If you read between the headlines,
You wouldnt be the last to know
No mystery yet to unfold,
A paperboy left in the cold
A love was said to never die,
Withered away and just got old
our top story tonight,
Is a crime of passion
The victim, an unidentified man,
Is found in bed, wearing only a diaper,
Holding a bow an arrow in one hand,
And clutching a letter in the other.
The letter simply read ...
Cupids dead.
Extra, extra, extra,
Read all about it
Cupids dead,
Cupid is dead, deceased,
I got peace of mind
Still its hard to forget,
What it leaves behind
A lot of love lost,
Your feelings are wasted,
Tasted the sweetness,
But now youre faced with,
The thought, of being alone
Nor more companionship,
You can handle it,
Just abandon it,
Leave it behind,
And look for the brighter day
Give it some time,
Cause it wont come right away
You gotta be standing strong,
Hold on to your dignity
Dont sit around,
Saying look what ya did to me
Its time to move on,
You gotta continue
To look for a love,
Of a life thats within you
Cupid is dead now,
Its time to rely on,
Yourself to cope
You got no shoulder to cry on
Dead
song performed by by Extreme
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dead And Broken
Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
You love what you do, you are cursed with it, and then you get known for being cursed with it.
quote by Armand Assante
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Premature Outbursts Later To Be Cursed
On automatic are dramatics,
With performances begun.
Those combat addicts,
Choose to pick their fights...
To declare what they have won.
Only,
To find themselves birthing...
Premature outbursts,
Later...
To be cursed!
On automatic are dramatics,
With performances begun.
Those combat addicts,
Choose to pick their fights...
To declare what they have won.
Only,
To find themselves birthing...
Premature outbursts,
Later...
To be cursed!
Only,
To find themselves birthing...
Activities done,
That can't...
Be reversed!
Premature outbursts,
Are later to be cursed.
Premature outbursts,
Are later to be cursed.
Premature outbursts,
Are later to be cursed.
Premature outbursts,
Are later to be cursed.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Read Your Mind
We held hands and laughed
Then we jumped in the water
Off the jetty wed fly
As the sun got hotter
We were any age
Floating through space
Happy for once in the human race
On this sweet sunday and into monday
Your arms wrapped around me
Where my love has found me
But am I really free
If I could read your mind
I hope Id find
The same love I have in mine
If I could go back in time
Id try to find you
And make up for all this wasted time
Like a broken record
Ive stayed protected
From promises from disappointments
I wanna hear your dreams wanna drift away
Wanna break you in
Oh I wanna stay
Stay in heaven oh in heaven
And see my life finally begin
Will we be together oh forever
Darling please let me in
If I could read your mind
I hope Id find
The same love I have in mine
If I could go back in time
Id try to find you
And make up for all this wasted time
Oh I want to stay in this sweet sunday and into monday
Your arms wrapped around me
Where my love has found me
Has finally found me
But am I really free
If I could read your mind
I hope Id find
The same love I have in mine
If I could go back in time
Id try to find you
And make up for all this wasted time
Na na na na na
If I could read your mind
Na na na na na
song performed by by Vonda Shepard
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Kill In The Spirit World
Theres something wrong theres a chill in the air
And the blood in my veins running colder
The eastern sky is beginning to silver
And the words that you speak start to falter
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
In the house of the dead theres a taker
Some say that this is the ultimate sin
When the spirit world turns to the alter
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Behold the dead clutching at fading hands, out of reach forever
In glory die calls the voice of the void
Your assassin has cursed every spectre
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
And the house of the dead seeks a master
Stretching every muscle, I wait for the end
And a kiss on the wind whispers murder, murder
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
When heaven is closer, its pleasure and pain
Kill in the spirit world
Did you see another in black
Is the blood in your veins running colder
If you did then theres no turning back
As the spirit world turns to the alter
The seal is broken, the oath has been crossed
And the house of the dead seeks the master
Stretching every muscle, I wait for the end
And a kiss on the wind whispers murder, murder
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Theres been a kill in the spirit world
Oh here it comes, oh no
The seal is broken, the eastern sky is beginning to silver
Theres something wrong, theres a chill in the air
I feel the evil, I feel the evil
Somebody whispers murder
A kiss on the wind whispers murder
song performed by by Black Sabbath
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Sad Holidays
The holidays are getting near
Bringing most people great cheer
These days bring back pain from the dead
The holidays I always have to dread
Thinking back through the many years
Trying to be happy, holding back the tears
Getting through life one day at a time
Out of the darkness I must climb
I can't live in the pain from the past
Please let it be over, don't let it last
I love the warmth from the summer sun
So let this time of year be done
I like the green grass and flowers in bloom
They make me happiest, instead of this gloom
So hurry up summer and come back around
And I won't be sad, happiness I'd have found
I have a good life and what's wrong with me
When the holidays come, I can't feel free!
poem by Donna Nimmo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Hail Africa
Hail Africa,
Full of race,
The lords be with you,
You are cursed among nations,
And black flesh, the fruit of your soil, is cursed.
Holy Africa,
Mother of humans,
Cry for us, killers,
Now, and at the hour
Of your death,
Amen!
poem by Bridget Pearson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The end must be nearing?
Some part of this world is cysted
Making it a hard time
Ones life ruïned by control
Thin waistline taken by chaos
I always hear them,
and always feel them
most of the times
even in my sleep
Some part of this world is a cancer
Trying to kill us all
Turning us to each other
And rape when they can
Just to destroy us all
Defence is not enough
They cursed our souls from the depths
of their blackened hollow heartshaped holes
in their chest, lacking a heart
And vomitting doom as tar from their diseased throats
Who can stop 'em all?
When comes the time?