The Tortured Homeless!

tortured homeless

I want to step into the future and leave my memories behind.

Why must I take with me the pain and eventually lose my mind?

When my thoughts become too much; a burden I cannot bear,

can my memories be erased? My desire is not to care.

They attack me night and day, leaving scars and scabs of thought.

Hopelessly engulfed; in memory’s web I’m trapped and caught.

Reflections of a tortured mind; subliminal reverie,

no nightmare can compete with my painful reality.


I am chased by a haunting specter of an unrelenting fiend.

No succubus in my dreams on which this demon can be weaned.

Afraid to close my eyes, those mirrors into my soul,

and my every thought and memory, an ugly shriveled troll.

No good did ever cleave to me, my deeds will never shine.

I worshipped at ole evil’s feet and kissed the devil’s shrine.

Regrets were never mine to know; in crassness, born and bred,

and to those whose paths I crossed; their screams pound in my head.

From memories, I must be set free and confine them to a tomb.

Or settle down to await rebirth as my thoughts bespeak my doom.


Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

© 2013 Shelby I. Courtland


5 thoughts on “The Tortured Homeless!

    1. Thank you Tubular! I cannot know exactly what is in the mind of every ‘tortured homeless’ soul, but I can at least shed light on the fact that they are indeed, the ‘tortured homeless’.

      Thank you again for your comment!


  1. I just read your breathtaking poem. I added my Like to it, and what I need to add is my profound Dislike the unfathomable suffering that made you write this poem and all the other poems that reflect your pain.

    It is the lack of care, self-centeredness, convenience, opportunism, rationalisations and narcissistic philosophy of the evil-doers that created and continue to create the hell that you and all the innocent go through in this world. These snakes surrender to and serve the unnecessary evil as something “necessary”thus creating the hell on earth.

    But take heart, Shelby, their days are numbered. They are afraid, they are obsessed with what we think and what we say. They are scared because they are aware they can’t continue their evil games forever. They are aware that their days are numbered. Their worst fear of all is their fear of death. This is why their delusional scientists pursue the goal to make them live forever, to stream their consciousness into machines and robots: to escape the moment when they will face justice, the eternity of hell they have brought upon themselves.

    But after reading this poem, I think I had a deeper glimpse into your reasons for stopping blogging.

    Take care, my friend, I wish and hope the very best for you : )


    1. Thank you dear Sky!
      “their days are numbered. They are afraid, they are obsessed with what we think and what we say. They are scared because they are aware they can’t continue their evil games forever. They are aware that their days are numbered.”

      I pray that you are right!!!


      1. You are most welcome, my dear Friend. I KNOW I am right.

        God has given me the knowledge to see through them. This knowledge is a difficult one, because I daily have to face the immense darkness they gave in to, but I am aware these creatures are weak, coward, only pretend to be powerful. Their conscience daily gnaws them to the ground, they try to drown their conscience into oblivion by sex, alcohol and drugs, yet they are forever haunted at the subconscious spheres of their conscience which deprives them of ALL their shallow pleasures. They are trying to “enjoy” the riches they gain by allowing their fellow humans suffer and die, but their rotten conscience make them suffer and make their mind, body and soul sick. They have no clue what love, so they are unable to have working relationships. Their friends are only there for their money, and whatever pleasure they seek as a substitute of love backfire at them. Their minds can NEVER rest, they hide in dark-windowed bullet-proof cars, they sneak into their rich homes as rats crawls into the crack of walls.

        They are especially fearful when they are confronted with the strength and uncompromising power of the good. I laugh at them Shelby, because I KNOW, their days are numbered, and thereafter comes the forever condemnation upon them. God is just.


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