Too many years

Too many years have pass To hold on To pain and hurt I had to let it go To learn and forgot And forgive It was a different time And differed word Then Things were not right

Had so much fun today

Oh I had so much fun today In my mine I got away to a far off places Where there a beach and hot sun And someone waiting for me Oh as I sit and close my eyes

Love

Love is more than a collection of random words… Love is more than a mirrored reflection of emotion... Love, charged directly at the heart, changes lives;

To Deconstruct Such as This

My brother murdered a man. We wasted an afternoon over the telephone, and coffee, as I listened, and he talked. Being rubbed the wrong way is merely execution of sound,

Alfred de Musset and the Myth of Young France

Anatomising the awful truth of the brevity of even the most glorious of youths

"They" second draft half completed.

Autumn in Singleton Park

“Oy, you’re standing on my nuts!” I lifted my foot, obeying without thought. Sure enough there were two Kent cobs beneath my feet, still in their husks.

Eastern Promise

A confection.

THE UNGRATEFUL WRETCH

THE UNGRATEFUL WRETCH P K Routray Edited by P Gaan

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