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 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
Mythical
Poetry writes a story
Short and sweet
Some sad memories
Broken hearted ones
Happiness being spread
Advice giving
Poetry writes a story
What is yours my friend?
 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
Edmund black
Home  is a powerful concept...if you can find that in the heart of others . A place that is safe, a place that too often bright and welcoming without judgement, a place to be understood, a place that celebrates you and looks for you, a place where the sunsets are always beautiful, a place that lights up upon your presence ...if you can find that where ever it may be ...Do not let go.  Home is truly a magical  place where we love one another . Home is You beautiful people  Diamond Crazy Kristy, Santita, CJ Love, Fawn , Perry, Crow, Micrography- D, Pattie m, Luz Hanaii , Pegan Paul, , Cné , Star BG, Sue, emnabee, Omni, Temporal Fugue, Valsa George, Tash McKay , Lora Lee , Donna, False Poets, Kim JOHANNA Baker, Lily, Suzy, tinhearts, Nat lipstadt , Lori Jones Mckaffery, Elena, Joey,Mack, Gods1son, Khoi-San, Poetryjournal, Sheila Sharpe, Sjr1000, Polar, Monlight, Diya, M-E , Salmabunu Hatim , Jules just to name a few and etc
I am humbled, appreciative, grateful for all the love and your generosity with kindness. What we’re experiencing here is love manifested as poetry.
My love is real
~~~~

Love , love , love always bring healing to the incurable.



                   Thank You From The Bottom Of My Heart ❤️ Thank You
 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
katie
Untitled
 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
katie
Beneath these
steady eyes
is a
tsunami
biding it’s time
like water
collecting
against a dam
it seeks a town,
host to roam,
something to destroy
and own.
You sense it’s unsettled
stirring but place
it out of
reach, choose to
work, shop
drive, dream
but
dampness
remains in air,
in gaps between
words, in car parks when
engines are turned off.
 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
Cassie
Untitled
 Jun 2019 Pagan Paul
Cassie
I can't write when I want to
Only when I need to
are farsighted? I’m splitting in two
in front of them, and still I can’t get
their attention. They walk over me like
I’m fallen leaves. I feel so used. I beg and

I plead for some relief. But they think it’s
my usual drama. So, I wear my steely armor
and smile. I’m not fooling anyone, least of all
myself. So, I hide in a bottle like a ship. And just like

the ship I can’t get out of the narrow
mouth. And there’s a cork at the head that won’t let
anything in. So, here I’m all alone by myself, which is
something I’m used to. And now since I’m split at the bow
I’ve no masts but two hulls.
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