"The Cursed Razor":
There once was a razor, sharp and cold,
That brought pain and sorrow, as its story was told.
The blade cut deep, the blood flowed red,
A curse was cast, and a life was led.
A man held the razor, his heart so full of hate,
His anger grew, as his life was set to fate.
He took the razor, and cut his skin,
The pain was sharp, and his life did dim.
The razor lay still, its curse.
The man was gone, the razor was found,
By another soul, with anger so profound.
He too took the razor, his hate was blind,
And with a slash, he caused more pain to find.
The razor's curse, it spread like a plague,
Each person who held it, their life would fade.
The razor lay silent, its power unchecked,
As the curse continued, more lives were wrecked.
The years went by, and the razor lay,
Its purpose unknown, its story to portray.
©® Coker Favour A.
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Author:
Coker Favour A. (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: March 3rd, 2024 20:26
- Category: Spiritual
- Views: 9
- Users favorite of this poem: Karley
Offline)
Comments2
Ooh, bit dangerous. I should only use the razor for shaving! (heehee).
Pls do follow me up
its a very relatable poem. I actually like this poem a lot
Pls do follow me up
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