Breaking The Mold: Poetry For A New Era

Cursed for birthplace

I was born into a world of violence and pain,
Where blood is spilled and tears fall like rain.
A curse upon me for the place of my birth,
Branded forever with a stain on my worth.

I did not choose this life, this land of strife,
Yet I am judged by others, their sharp words like a knife.
They see my skin, my accent, and my name,
And assume I'm like the others, full of hate and shame.

I am not my country, I am not my past,
But my identity is tied to them, a curse that will last.
I try to escape, to prove them wrong, But the weight of their judgement is just too strong.

So I walk alone, a cursed soul, Carrying a burden that's not mine to hold.
A target for their anger and their fear, A victim of their prejudice year after year.

I curse this world, this life I lead, Where I am judged not by my deeds, But by the actions of those I don't know,
A curse that will follow me wherever I go.