I Am My Own Curse... Poem by Saint Cynosure

I Am My Own Curse...



My broken piece is sharp,
it cuts just like a knife.
Drains the pain inside my soul,
that is the breath of life.
Through tears things seem to melt,
what's covered in disguise.
Lifes not always has its seen,
but often has its felt.
I've tried to set it right,
tried to stay my course.
But every turn true that I turned,
seems I had made it worse.
I am my own curse...

Saturday, February 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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