Cursed By Design Poem by Brijaal Dana

The void is now, just an empty hole,
Emotions bow, and feels so cold,

As if a child, hungers for food,
Being in denial, plunges the mood,

Shot in the foot, wouldn’t believe the scar,
That’s why I put, my feelings afar,

What I refer to, is the damage I’ve done,
As if I stirred brew, the barrage has begun,

The greatest of pains, created by self,
Tears are like rains, not on a shelf,

Happiness removed, forever and a day,
Painfully grooved, and paved was the way,

Destroyed my own, fairytale future,
Employed and grown, an open-wound suture,

This heart of mine, once was hers,
The art of design, is now a curse.