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 Feb 2020
Edmund black
I heard them say
That cats have nine lives
And no matter what life throws at them
They always land perfectly perfect
On their feet
But as impressive this may sound
I remain unimpressed
Because
Perhaps the same can be said
For Edmund black
Because believe me
When I tell you that truer words
Have never been spoken
No matter if the sky’s fallen
The earth’s crumbling
Or the sun’s risen
I remain standing taller than ever before

“No matter what”


     Still, I rise!
 Feb 2020
Keith Edward Baucum
My Writing Style

I try to write in different styles.  I don't want to be put in a box.  I try to mix different styles together and create new styles of writing.  Poetry, prose, playwright, proverbs, and other styles of writing I mix together and try to create a new style of writing.  I'm still haven't truely developed my own true style of writing.

Written by: Keith Edward Baucum
 Feb 2020
JaxSpade
Is it so hard to love
To give
More than enough
To live for
God

Is it so hard
To believe
You were bought
So you could willingly slave for the Lord
And reprogram your robot

You were a thought
God sought
For his army of justice

Yeah
It's just us

Is it so hard to love your neighbor
Love your enemies
And labor for the love

Yes
It is

So hard

When you're flesh and human

To love
The habitat
That manufacturers demons

After the Good
Went bad
We became Man
And Woman

Now
it's so hard to love
When it's so much easier

To give up
 Feb 2020
Apporva Arya
Loose yourself in me
Then find yourself in me..
This is what I leant from love, I loose myself somewhere in this journey with him and then again found myself in him.
 Feb 2020
Walter W Hoelbling
all poetry is personal
some more than others

to just spread out your private feelings
     in your verse
may not be everyone's delight

but if you choose words
so that the many find their voices
    in your own
you may be lucky
to achieve all poets' dreams

your personal voice
becomes the public
 Feb 2020
Poetic T
Let me be
     The soup,

That dampens
       Your croutons.
 Feb 2020
Satsih Verma
So normal, the poverty
makes you rich.
At the same time, you cry.

Not needed to be
adored, I was my own slave.
The long journey suffers.

The big shark makes
a dive. You fall like ginger-
bread in mouth of kismet.
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