The title wave that is I,
rages upon chaotic Sea’s.

Winds blow as my thoughts grow
with each passing wave,
bobbing on the wake of the
turbulent Sea I suffer as the
Sea bow’s to me.

Lost to Sea’s of poetry.

Waning is my moon, as the stars
pay no mind to the dusty old rock
as they pass by my relic mind.

I draw with words, a painting
riddled with rhyme and
lacks space and time,
yet grabs your mind like
a spider waiting in the corner.

You my fly I the spider, with my
web of expressions I tightly winde
and softy stroke your imagination.

My fingers wrap around your heart
as I play the strings, I can imagine
its beat like a throbbing drum.

Such beauty is in my creative mind.

Fallen words of mine, a poet by
design.

My wings open, and my soul flies
as my expression release’s a poetic
extension.

Its my wings of expression
that helps me fly.

Ode to my poet, may she bleed her ink and learn to fly.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I am a introverted extrovert. I got lost in between being overly social and drained from emotional damages society suffers from.

AMANDA SHELTON

It starts out cold and dark,
as poetry heats up the since
bringing light to the window.

As the viewer begins to read.

The poet burns brightly for all
to see.

Time is never ending in
the poetic world.

It can time travel,
age quickly, defy gravity
and change your mind with
just one simple word.

Its like venom to
my poetic desires.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Black as night, cold as ice
the heat melts away the waxy
wane, I hold the fire that
burns deep inside my poetic soul.

Shackles binde me to the
words that cage my mind
in this poetic design.

Thorny roads overgrown
by poetic ****'s of all
kind's.

The sentencing is final,
my guilt is plighting
my soul is fighting this
poetic venom that bit my
creativity turning me...

Poetry, poetry brings me
to the edge of reality.

Guide's me through the dark,
candle light feed's my venomous
needs. Its smoke invades my
being.

Leaving me in the window of
your mind's to write this
venomous design.

Poetry is my venom
I am its poet a candle
lit in the darkness of
a window somewhere
in time.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I have more dead art pieces
than live.

My inspiration is random
and off the road.

It's how the creative mind works.

We think outside the box
and bring the abstract inside.

Math, and science works the same way.

Someone had to think about it
for the idea to exist.

We creative thinker's,
reached into the vastness of
space and time, brought the stars
and planets to the minds of the
population, creative minds made
the internet possible too.

We artist's bring the possibilities
into people's lives.

I am a painter of word's and brushes.

I was born this way.

I was born with a pen in one hand
and ideas in the other.

Dead art pieces are practice art
pieces, they build a bridge to
greatness and help save the environment.

Recycle your dead art pieces
and be proud to be a creative
thinker.

We are the possibilities.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Fear can make you stronger
or weaker it's up to you.

I learned, it's okay to not always
be okay.

To get through you have to deal
with it.

Claim those mountains,
swim the oceans,
learn to fly when you fall
don't stay on your knees.

Fear itself is what holds us back.

The fear of pain rejection as well
as the unknown.

It can be a good thing though.

Fear can teach us how to
make better decisions.

It's facing fear that builds
character.

You are not a failure if you
live fearfully, you are brave
for facing it.

A survivor faces fear to build
bridges to safety, bravery is
on the other side.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

In between the teeth of weeping
angles lurks death and permanent
night. Such tragedy is this life.

Wolves vent their howls,
as I awaken.

Ti's a night of dark desire,
my weeping soul rises from the
depths of the earth.

As the moon bow's in its
throne of star's, eternal
darkness surrounds me
I arouse and the light
bends for my shadow.

Cold breath of winter shrouds
my form, a lurking beast
with a lust for blood.

My black ***** hair cascades
over tragic shoulders,
as my lips part slightly
revealing my true nature.

To taste the flesh beneath me
as blood streams from my plumped
lips, is ghastly and ghoulish.

But no peace do I ponder,
forever I wander.

Now a night of misery and plight,
I grow weary of the night.

So I go down to the river where
it is warm and green, and I enjoy
the night until morning brings
ash and light.

Goodbye! The end!

Au revoir! La fin!

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton