The Few Goodhearted

I really can't tell. The use of such phrases as heart of gold genuinely care this day and age make pain obsolete and especially the contraposition of the formal "one" with the colloqial "These here words" All make me suspect you are being a sardonic New Yorker and have been punking me for a while. That's cool I'm not right, I'm just Jess who stands up to messiahs and lightning storms with a half brick in his hand

Hey paul, another absolutely beautiful poem, stands right up there with Guardian Angel as my favorite. Absolutely amazing and truthful. You, my friend are one of the few good hearted, and of the best friends anyone can have. I thank you for your friendship. Peace love n hugs Katie

Dear Paul, lovely writing, & I would like to suggest that there are many good hearted, they sometimes wear disguises though, because those that don't wear disguise are open to being shot down (though a true heart rarely falls, or falls for long), & I would also like to suggest you are one of these as well. With humble sentiment & with pleasure xx~ Anni ~~~ "Courage, it would seem, is nothing less than the power to overcome danger, misfortune, fear, injustice, while continuing to affirm inwardly that life with all its sorrows is good; that everything is meaningful even if in a sense beyond o

Another great write , you are starting to fly now , stretch those wings out and soar ... Love Jayne x

Although getting harder to find. This particular place seems to attract most of the good one although there are always a few rotten ones in the barrel. Well done Paul Respectfully, Rett: "God made an idiot for practice, then he made a school board." Mark Twain For the sake of children, read this. http://www.neopoet.com/node/19905

Paul well written ? I had to smile at the first 5 or 6 lines . Because your words were like a sword of truth ? Love Press

It's always nice to find some truly good-hearted people. I agree with Rett; they're becoming far and few in between, but if you look close, they're there. Nice writing, friend. ~Jess K. ----------------------- "Flying so high, trying to remember How many cigarettes did I bring along? When I get down, I'll jump in a taxi-cab Driving through London-town to cry you a song..." - Jethro Tull

Where are you in this poem? kind regards, Jean, meow, yip, purr, yowl and perfect body language of approval, contempt or demand

It may be difficult to gudge a poem for me. Content is not mentioned in my deffinition of poetry but seems to be my favorite means of remark. But then in my deffinition, there must be sound or at the least words that suggest sound. This poem needs some sound, for me anyhow. I think it has everything else, Paul. I have come to the reality that almost everyone wants to be "The Gudge" but mostly nobody will be an angel. Is there a middle ground I wonder? Regards, Mark "some things change, some things do not"

First poem I have read of yours and have to say this one is really nice. Beautifully written and meaningful. Ms Mona