On A Beautiful Youth Struck Blind With Lightning
('Imitated from the Spanish'.)
SURE 'twas by Providence design'd,
Rather in pity, than in hate,
That he should be, like Cupid, blind,
To save him from Narcissus' fate.
poem by Oliver Goldsmith
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This Is Such A Pity
How is your heart little darling?
I didn't mean to get so mad.
Let me just hold you closely.
How did things get so bad?
I know how to pick on you.
You pushed me over the edge.
We caused so much agony.
We can't seem to move ahead.
This is such a pity.
We should give all our love to each other.
Not this hate that destroys us.
This is such a pity.
(This is a pity)
What kind of future will we have?
Will we we ever find peace?
Everybody thinks we're crazy.
They're about to call the police.
I don't wanna be a chump.
You think I'm a fascist pig.
Right now everything is black.
I don't think we'll get it.
This is such a pity.
We should give all our love to each other.
Not this hate that destroys us.
This is such a pity.
(This is a pity)
[solo]
This is such a pity.
We should give all our love to each other.
Not this hate that destroys us.
This is such a pity.
(This is a pity)
song performed by by Weezer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My Fate Has Been Sealed....
My Fate Has Been Sealed....
your love placed inside my heart...
came to me without prior notice...
owned it and got into it to burn this heart...
how pity this heart...
this heart which i hold..
pity you are, my heart from this love...
from those fires which burned you...
and changed your life, up to down...
is that your fate...?
this fate, which wrote on you...?
to be always in love..
in love with whom who don`t know how to take care of you...
who owns this rights...
to make you always in pains...
who can change this...
and who can put the end to this fate..
pity you are, my pity heart...
i know that i shall meet my fate oneday...
but i need a fate which my heart deserve...
i need a happiness...
the happiness which i seek and dream always about...
i will accept my fate for what it was...
but if this fate completed my life with you...
poem by Hazem Al Jaber
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The fate of hate is hate
The fate of hate is hate
Hate was his way of life
Humanity he did not like
Killed thousands
Around the world
Taught others
To live in hate
In the name of religion
Called himself a human
Lived like a demon
Spread terror on the earth
Did not get
Two yards for himself
Remains buried
In the depth of the sea
Was cursed by everybody
From a child to elderly
His fate was known
Long before he died
Tried his best to hide
But could not survive
The fate of hate is hate
Hate killed hate
03-05-2011
803-10-05-11
(On the death of Osama Bin Laden)
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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Hand Of Providence
Michael w. smith
Providence, providence
See it laying down the cornerstone
The hand of providence - its evident
For we could never make it on our own
Apportioning the power
Weighing all that it entails
Giving us the fulcrum
And a balance to the scales
Chorus:
Oh, the hand of providence
Is guiding us through choices that we make
Oh, the hand of providence
Is reaching out to help us on our way
Providence, ever since
Any thesis ever entered man
The hand of providence
Has been our best defense
Tho his ways are sometimes hard to understand
From the dying of a heartbeat
To another soul reborn
From in between and circling
Our thoughts of love and war
Chorus
song performed by by Michael W. Smith
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Apelles' Song
Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses; Cupid paid:
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves, and team of sparrows;
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how);
With these, the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple on his chin;
All these did my Campaspe win:
And last he set her both his eyes -
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas! become of me?
Cupid and My Campaspe
Cupid and my Campaspe played
At cards for kisses;
Cupid paid.
He stakes his quiver, bow, and arrows,
His mother's doves and team of sparrows,
Loses them too; then down he throws
The coral of his lip, the rose
Growing on's cheek (but none knows how),
With these the crystal of his brow,
And then the dimple of his chin:
All these did my Campaspe win.
At last he set her both his eyes;
She won, and Cupid blind did rise.
O Love! has she done this to thee?
What shall, alas, become of me?
I Pity You
I pity you when you walk down the street
I pity you when you open your mouth to speak
You will tell your story, with its pity and glory
As sympathy is all that you do seek.
I pity you and your parents dear
I pity you when from you they don’t want to hear
As you put them to blame, for your sadness and pain
That’s why for you no-one will shed a tear.
I pity you when you laugh and smile
I pity you as your life is full of guile
But you are the source, for your sadness and remorse
And you wont change even when walking your last mile.
I pity you as you once had something
I pity you as now you have nothing
You threw everything away, so you could stray
Now your retribution will be coming.
I pity you as with time you will age
I pity you with your hate and your rage
You will always fight, whether you are wrong or right
You are the animal and your soul is your cage
I pity you and I do it without a clue
I pity you whenever I see or hear of you
There is no sympathy, as your not my friend or enemy
And all I can say is, that I truly pity you.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave
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I Hate That I Hate
I hate the way you treat me
I hate that everything is how you want it to be
I hate all your lies and silly games
I hate how you make them all the same
I hate that I feel this way
I hate that I can't take the pain away
I hate that I'm your back bone
I hate being in the same zone
I hate the way you make me feel
I hate the pain won't heal
I hate that you are too blind to see
I hate that I want to leave
I hate not wanting to be around
I hate your mouth that produces bad sounds
I hate a lot of other things too
But I hate that you make me hate you
poem by Triauna Hall
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Lear
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown,
Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind—
For pity, my own tears have made me blind
That I might never see my children's frown;
And, may be, madness, like a friend, has thrown
A folded fillet over my dark mind,
So that unkindly speech may sound for kind—
Albeit I know not.—I am childish grown—
And have not gold to purchase wit withal—
I that have once maintain'd most royal state—
A very bankrupt now that may not call
My child, my child—all beggar'd save in tears,
Wherewith I daily weep an old man's fate,
Foolish—and blind—and overcome with years!
poem by Thomas Hood
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Why was Cupid a Boy
Why was Cupid a Boy
And why a boy was he
He should have been a Girl
For ought that I can see
For he shoots with his bow
And the Girl shoots with her Eye
And they both are merry and glad
And laugh when we do cry
And to make Cupid a Boyt
Was the Cupid Girls mocking plant
For a boy cant interpret the thingt
Till he is become a man
And then hes so piercd with care
And wounded with arrowy smarts
That the whole business of his life
Is to pick out the heads of the darts
Twas the Greeks love of war
Turnd Love into a Boy
And Woman into a Statue of Stone
And away fled every joy
poem by William Blake from Songs and Ballads (1794)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Why Hate
if you hate then you hate the words of life
if you hate then you hate the words of pain
if you hate then you hate the words of fate
if you hate then you hate the words of true love
if you hate then you hate the words of the world
if you hate you hate the words of your fate
so why hate when you can love the words we speak so why hate when you can love the words your lord speaks and why hate when you can love the ones who love you
SO WHY HATE
poem by Andy Pierce
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My Fate Which Is Mine
My eyes are wide shut, facing the sea
Watching the movement, how can this be?
Ripples, waves, crashing on me
Then I awake, my wall I now see
Who says it was fake, it could be sign
Something bad is coming, or is it Gods design
I will just wait and see, I think ill be fine
Is it His life, or is it mine
Do we make our own decisions, are they already said?
Is my next day determined, before I lay in bed?
Should I stay up and worry, or lay down my head
Will I figure it out, before I am dead?
I decide my own fate, my fate which is mine
Should I save all my money, or spend my last dime
Should I be angry, or remain benign
Take days to think, you’ll run out of time
I decide my own fate, my fate which is mine
poem by Ryan Stark
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The design of God was much otherwise. He gave this and the Prophecies of the Old Testament, not to gratify mens curiosities by enabling them to foreknow things, but that after they were fulfilled they might be interpreted by the event, and his own Providence, not the Interpreters, be then manifested thereby to the world. For the event of things predicted many ages before will then be a convincing argument that the world is governed by Providence.
quote by Isaac Newton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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I Hate...
I hate,
hate that I can't trust
I hate,
hate that I must lie because they'd rather believe I'm fine.
I hate,
hate who I've been.
I hate,
hate to make decisions.
I hate,
hate that I can't hate those I should.
I hate,
hate my life.
I hate,
hate that I can't die.
I hate,
hate to live in fear and hate.
I hate,
hate my uncertainty.
I hate,
hate the lies people tell me.
I hate,
hate that I believe.
I hate,
hate those that wish their lives were mine.
I hate,
hate all emotion that's mine.
I hate,
hate that I need others.
I hate,
hate my own d*mn incompetence.
I hate,
hate that there's so much to hate.
poem by Dama Tristeza
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Coin Of Fate
In my hand is my coin of fate
It tells me at who I am to project my hate
With just a flip of the coin we shall see
What fate has determined what is your destiny
On one side is written of forgiviness and prayer
The other side is covered in scratches and shown little care
If me catching the side with prayer is your fate
Then you will be left alone and safe from my hate
But if the side displayed is the latter
Then save your breathe for your pleas will not matter
You will meet the side of me that is deaf to your cries
And know that anyone who meet this twisted being inside me dies
So, now let us play my little game
Let us see what fate has in store
*Flips the coin*
Well, it seems that I will stay tame
What say we play once more
poem by Vasto Grom
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Little Bit Stupid
You stole a wig from your sister
And a gun from your dad
I geuss i knew when i kissed ya
You're a little bit mad
You don't care if you get sick
Living on bubble gum
Maybe too much lipstick
Made your mouth go dumb
I have to say that we were suited
But you know what they say about Cupid:
Little bit stupid
Little bit stupid
So we got ourselves messed up
And we did it with style
And the way we were dressed up
Was a little bit wild
Stack heels and tiaras
We were oh so refined
Or maybe too much mascara
Made my eyes go blind
I don't know if we were deluded
But i know what they say about Cupid:
Little bit stupid
Little bit stupid
I guess to do what me and you did
You have to be just a bit like Cupid:
Little bit stupid
Little bit stupid
song performed by by Joe Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hate You.
I hate the way you dress
I hate that you are a mess
I hate your eyes
I hate your lies.
I hate it when you talk
I hate the way you walk
I hate your smile
I hate your style.
I hate your arms
I hate your charms
I hate your face
I hate your place.
I hate your hands
I hate your plans
I hate the way you think
I hate it when you drink.
I hate when you call
I hate it all
I hate it that you are true
I hate you when I’m blue.
I hate you when you sleep
I hate you very deep
I hate the way you kiss
I hate to be like this.
I hate your touch
I hate you much
I hate myself more
I hate that’s you I adore.
I hate, I don’t hate you a bit
I hate, I will have to admit
I don’t hate you, Not even small
I don’t hate you at all.
poem by Patricia Perez
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My friends and my road-fellows, pity the nation that is full of beliefs and empty of religion. Pity the nation that wears a cloth it does not weave, eats a bread it does not harvest, and drinks a wine that flows not from its own winepress. Pity the nation that acclaims the bully as hero, and that deems the glittering conqueror bountiful. Pity the nation that raises not its voice save when it walks in a funeral, boasts not except among its ruins, and will rebel not save when its neck is laid between the sword and the block. Pity the nation whose statesman is a fox, whose philosopher is a juggler, and whose art is the art of patching and mimicking. Pity the nation that welcomes its new ruler with trumpetings, and farewells him with hootings, only to welcome another with trumpetings again. Pity the nation divided into fragments, each fragment deeming itself a nation.
quote by Kahlil Gibran
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hate That Is Not Mine
I hate the way we live
I hate we have to die
I hate the way you want it to be all over
And suddenly change ur mind
I hate you want to hurt yourself
I hate you always cry
I hate I see myself somewhere deep inside your eyes
I hate that I can relate to you
I hate that you cant see
All the good things in your life
I hate you cant see me
I hate when I look in the mirror
Your the person looking back
I hate that every day seems like someone will attack
I hate that I am weak
I hate that you are hear
I hate that I can't change all the things I fear
I hate that I dont hate you
instead I hate myself
for im the one who can't even remember my true self
I hate I let you into my mind
I hate you let me stop living
I hate that I can't stand up to you and understand what im forgiving
I hate I dont talk to you
I hate its not like it use to be
I hate time that makes me change to what you want to see
I hate you couldnt tell this wasn't all my hate
I take your hate into myself and understand my fate
sometimes I dont understand the hate
and still I continue to see
all the hate deep down inside of you
is now inside of me.
poem by Kendra Short
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Simple Answers
I don't hate you for what you did,
For everyone makes mistakes,
I don't hate you for how you spoke,
For language is intelligence,
I don't hate you for how you lied,
For the truth can sometimes hurt,
I don't hate you for your control,
For sometimes you can lose it,
I hate the way you didn't care,
For I needed you for support,
I hate the way you looked at her,
For your eyes were not made to be caught,
I hate the way you want me to change,
For I should be loved for me,
I hate the way you are so blind,
For I just wish you could see.
poem by Sarahh Riley
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