I
don’t
know
when
my
petals
died,
but
I
do
know
that
I
survived

You don’t know me
Your struggle
Isn’t mine

You don’t live this
Your life
Can’t compare

You don’t understand
Your existence
Won’t comprehend

You don’t get this
Your world
Won’t collide

You all have a little bit of
"I want to save the world", in you
I just want you to know
That it's okay if you only save one person
And it's okay if that person
Is you

I cannot sleep,
Knowing your heart hurts,
As you doze off.

It has been said to me
That poetry
Is but Words
And Gobbledygook.

So how can I explain
What poetry is?
It’s something intangible,
An atmosphere,
A spiritual thing.

Poetry is essence,
Touching the soul.
A kind of Magic,
As Queen used to sing.

It makes you tingle
And shudder
And glow.

Much more than a shopping list
Or legal decree
Poetry flows from the heart,
Lyrically lancing
Through space and time
To create a universe
Of bountiful beauty,
Where even the ugliest monstrosity
Is transformed
Into heaven
On Earth.

It saddens me to think
That seemingly soulless people
Miss out
On this.

So all I can do
Is keep on singing,
Carry on writing
In the enduring hope
That one day
They will see the light.

Paul Butters

© PB 2\1\2019.

Always put effort and energy
Into everything that you do
Be that generating force
That always shines through
Accentuate the positive
Have that vibrant feeling
Excellence is within you
Reach for the ceiling

when i lost myself
it truly hurt the most
because how do you heal
when you are the ghost

s.s