The progeny of who sires
A sea's storm-rageful
Overturn of it.
Partakes in whose misfortune
A carefree sailing.
Wall of rock does hit.
Deceitful
Conniving
Malevolent
Just a wicked witch
with a putrid rotten heart
AP: 2nd place 2026
Sweet Mother Marrow flies
in through the pane,
With dust made of shadows
and liquid of bane.
She gives you a gown that is
woven from spite,
And slippers of glass that
pinch extra tight.
She smiles with a grin full of
needles and pins,
And laughs in the dark when
the nightmare begins.
Her magic wand splinters
and curdles the milk,
As she wraps up your
dreams in a shroud of black
silk.
So cover your ears when she
hums her sweet chime,
For this godmother loves to
run out of your time.
A curse for the wicked
A spell to exact serious revenge, if you can’t find a picture of your enemy, imagine where you last seen him/her. If you haven’t got a candle use this picture. Hold that image in your mind. Light a candle, stare into the candle with such hatred for the person/s then read,
I hate you so much
I want revenge
For what you did to me
I want you to suffer
In hell and feel the pain
Of ever destroying my soul
I want you to feel the agenising pain
I put a curse on you
For ever more
Leave the candle on all night, preferably 3 to 4 am.
Warlords take siege upon a land, a falling kingdom
Immensely, they overwhelm, they conquer their alleged king
Catch the thieves, throw them in the pyre
Keep the meek ones, revolt they shan't
Every road leads to the same inevitability
Down with the ruling monarch, a scourge upon the motherland
Is it worth the crimson soil on a peasant's farm?
Sovereignty and war for the sake of the common man?
Good men, our warlords have spoken and have
Ordained our children with a new era
Of peace, of tearless glee, of headless chicken
Down with the monarch, war is good evil.
I consumed it once, to avoid my loneliness.
I felt—wow—euphoric! Was I walking on air?
Was it a celestially blessed coziness?
Wasn't it like being in nature's divine care?
I saw crores of rainbows surrounding my being;
I was sailing silently on a sea of peace.
On clouds of endless ages of time, I was skiing—
Gulfs between deaths and resurrections seemed to cease.
How long will all these last? I did not know. I slept.
What did I find except darkness when I woke up?
Like a child born only to die, I bleakly wept;
There were only slips of lips on my broken cup.
Why chase a ghost and mock your inner need?
Must not the soul break through its binding weed?
The never ending feeling of pain
As the giant ball rises up into my throat
Spiralling into an epitome of low
How can love be so cruel?
I watch as you take my soul, my mind, my everything, my nothing
Will I ever survive this cruel game we play?
Is fractured, is failing..Will fall.' A wave of
Awarness is gathering, soon all will see
Its downfall.'
This world is wicked, the system is crooked.
Nobody wanna talk about how suicides been committed, how people on the streets stay trapped and addicted, or how innocent folks get convicted
for things they never did.
We spend our whole life going to school, trying to be "successful," but nothing they taught me ever felt helpful.
Half the stuff they drilled in our brains felt heavy, felt resentful.
I'm starting to think this whole system
was made for white people.
If I can't understand
what's going on in grade school, I might as well break the rules-the mind of a fool.
It might come off cruel, but I'm just trying to figure out what it even means to live.
Once upon a Witch full thought
Deceit and hate on her mind
An Evil Wicked Witch living in Witchcraft Manor planning to terror on everyone
Turning human into Evil toads for the Witches bidding
The Wicked Witch had been terrorizing all the citizens in Fernwick Center
Citizens who were humble and thankful
Happy people in family togetherness and love
The Evil Witches wanted to change good into bad
Determined to reign and turn people into her slaves
Punishment detail came to people that didn’t behave
Into the hot pot cook
Serving to her liking and taste
Scare rang through the air in shook
Casting all kinds of incantations causing fear
Darkness that came even though it was day
Total atmosphere change that the Wicked Witch could control
Spell here and there
Eventually everywhere
Promises
Designated to follow through
Nothing new
Attempt to pursue
One day, the Wicked Witch herself will be thrown into a pot being the stew and concluding with a slew.
cursed wand
of the wicked
enlightened and altered
from ebony to ivory
flipped stick
The good and true know rest and peace
Simple because without selfish intent
They can lay their burdens down
Moment by moment and so enjoy
The endless journey.
The bad and false know no rest
Because driven by desire
There is no satisfaction
And so their path
Becomes an endless wheel of suffering.
One is like a still pond
In which you can see your clear reflection,
The other a swift rapid
Making waves and turbulent eddies
At every turn.
One knows peace effortlessly
The natural byproduct of life in harmony,
The other knows it only as a dream
Something strived for
But never attained.
(10/26/25)
They turned me away from Hell's Gate
Said I was too much of a reprobate
Said earth deserved me, and I deserved it
Besides, demons were on strike, wouldn't fire the pit.
So I went back to earth, a few memories erased
Looked for money to steal, lives to waste
Set up shop with like minded hoods
Took what wasn't ours, got away with the goods.
Then the strike was over, so a demon made a sell
He said we have a spot for you, down in hell
But I replied, "the government steals more
At least I'm aware I'm corrupt to the core."
"Twisted souls parrot the latest dreck
"On the turn of a dime, good men shot in the neck
"Take the other guys first, then we'll talk about me."
The demon thought, then had to agree.
So I may look old, but I still steal
Hurting the little guy retains its appeal.
My friends are hoods, and thugs, and punks
But hell can be selective for the other skunks.
The demons never came back for me
Hell was overflowing, over-capacity
So many applicants, such a waiting line
Before they get to me, it will be a long time.
The righteous suffer, the wicked flourish
that is how the world is nourished
The righteous cry it’s just not fair
the wicked howl ~ you’re immaturish
of what use is poetry if insipid
it borders on wicked
words can lift the heart
restore the soul ~ or
drain the hope-supply
in a world gone bone-dry
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.