We are a poem,
written on life's
page;

The words;
daily lyrics of
feelings;
emotions,
experiences;

As creation,
was the pen;
and God the poet.

treasure all the moments
even the tiny little ones
because in a single flash
everything could crash
and you’d be wondering why
despite everything that you had tried,
you couldn’t keep these ones alive

A vast majority suffer a life of labour.
A luck few enjoy a lavish cruise.

I see it
A new perspective
Where I no longer desire
Save the desire to no longer
Want

So I do
The same rituals
Where I know I'm safe
Yet the safe I know
Hurts

Oh I feel
The inevitable coming
Where infinite rests
And rests infinitely
Alone

He was born into money,
raised with money,
and speak fluent sarcasm.

He probably wasn't aware,
one day when he leaves the world
he would leave empty.

Upon the night the poet writes,
within my darkened room
under candlelight all is revealed.

From my ink comes black and blue, with bruises from my passed I stain these walls.

Memories never leave me,
pain and suffering is like a
shadow always following me.

Writing is a release, a bandaid
to help me heal.

These emotional hills are a
struggle to claim, but I grew bat
wings so watch me fly.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

You called me predictable
and you were right
when you said
“You’d write a poem about it”