Christopher Paul : Writing

Why me?...

Why me?...

A Poem by Christopher Paul


“Wait, please don’t”, he cried “Please, don’t do this”, he watched as his soul died “Why, why me?&rdqu..
An Artist’s Desire.. Part – 1 The Lady in Black

An Artist’s Desire.. Part – 1 The Lady in Blac..

A Story by Christopher Paul


If I remember it correctly, it was those eyes. Those pearl shaped bright blue eyes that brought my attention to this beautiful lady sitting alone at t..
She Smiled...

She Smiled...

A Poem by Christopher Paul


Her legs hung like dead weights Effects of all the pills she ate Blur her eyes, dizzy her head Thanks to the bottle beside her bed She could feel ..
She wouldn't die...

She wouldn't die...

A Story by Christopher Paul


It was 9:24 in the morning. The sun was up, the sky was clear and bright. On an open empty road, on a cycle a man rode wearing a grey coat with a ba..
Man or Animal... (Part -I)

Man or Animal... (Part -I)

A Story by Christopher Paul


November 5th The sky grew dark, the sunlight dim and the sound of thunder and lightning grew loud. Some people hurried home while some ran o..
Bloody Mary...

Bloody Mary...

A Story by Christopher Paul


The sound of footsteps echoed through the empty school building. The full moon light illuminating the dark corridors on the second floor showed thre..
A special day...

A special day...

A Poem by Christopher Paul


The air was full of laughter and joy There were smiles on the faces of every girl and boy The room was decorated, the day was special People hurrie..
This place you now call home...

This place you now call home...

A Poem by Christopher Paul


Alone in a place so cold Wandering around for ages Nothing ever seems to get old Lost in life's puzzles and mazes No light appears Only darknes..
There's a ghost under my bed...

There's a ghost under my bed...

A Story by Christopher Paul


“C’mon Tommy, times up.” Yelled Mr. Johnson from the dining room “Just five more minutes”, a sweet little voice said...
Last Thoughts...

Last Thoughts...

A Poem by Christopher Paul


A glass of Scotch And a lit Cigar The flames I watch That burn off my guitar My life and the world It‘s not so different Both are a mess..

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