deepundergroundpoetry.com

Blessed Or Cursed

Rotten, worms a cancer in the flesh, skin and bones.
A constant irritating noise.
in the ears.
Words as vomit in the eyes.
Like a merciless knife cutting the heart that loves.
A dwarf in moral standards.
Pride, demons in thee reign.

Too intelligent to listen to em grown ups.
Taking advantage of the weak.
Thy self is your God.

But where do thee go, when numberless storms befall thee.?

Wake up from your slumber as a stubborn child.
But a pepertual blessing to thy parents thee should be.

Never should thee grow tired, for prayer
is a resting place.
Written by TouchSky
Published
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