Oh, how I became the suffering fool.
My scares follow me like leaf's
on the wind.  I carry them where
ever I blow.

My seasons change but still
suffering rains, it pours upon
my happy plains, with gray
gloomy clouds and doomed
chills running down my spine.

In memory of my pain,
I engraved my suffering
upon this page.
May you find solitude
within this grave.

Requiem of my suffering.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

“We are like a drop of water in a large pond. The ripples we make effect the surface as so we effect reality.”

– By Amanda Shelton

Within this suffering
I live on with burning
passion, though I wrought
like iron I slowly break down
and rust, I breathe.

My roots are broken but
still I work like everyone else,
I just do it differently.

I burst like energy surging from
this life, I am structured
like a house with a computer
running everything.

I am the programmer of
my own existence, but I am not
the boss, for I work for God
who created us.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Blowing like wind,
as the sea devoured me
with waves I dropped to
its depths crashing to the bottom.

Upon my return, the sea
greeted me with open arms
and a kiss from its title waves.

I was reborn as a fish.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I am like a candle blowing
in the wind, you can find
me seated at my window
illuminating the room.

Pen in one hand and a poem
in my mind, waiting to
be freed from the
neurons holding it in.

Fueled by a Gothic view
and a vision of dark blue,
green, and gray skies above
me with streams of sunshine peaking through the clouds.

Memories abound
as I write my poetic story.

A passion fueled by
laced moments of lost
childhood and forgotten hearts
I collected in my broken jar’s.

My tragic life became
a burning blaze line after line
it burns across the page,
forever engraved.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

This life reminds me of
a bitey vampire stocking me,
I feel its teeth on my back.
Don’t look to the past,
for it bites.

Like an unwanted shadow
death is never far behind.

God allows so much but not
out of vengeance, but out
of love for us, he wants us
to grow and develop.
We can’t do that if we
don’t suffer somewhat.

We are all blind and
child like, living as if
heaven is too far away
to imagine its golden gates,
even though it is just
a step away.

The most important thing is
don’t forget to live bravely
boldly and through faith.
Those three things are
what can modivate.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Trailing behind me
are my experiences in red,
it’s all we have here
existence, we’ve all bled
at one point.

Life moves forward
one foot fall at a time.

Footprints on this Earth
from my journey in time,
exposed to the elements,
we are burning like stars.

Poetic flames fuel
my life, bursting from
the seams, passions rise
above the horizon, we are
like falling stars.

Blowing in the wind
guided by the path
set down by the old
rivers and trees,
the forest never forgot me.

Bleeding from my roots
but still I breathe the
painful fumes like a
power plant blowing
steam, I keep falling it
seems, even my ashes are
hot, like burning stars.

Breathe they say, deeply now,
I brave the pain, seeping deep
into my frame, slowly burning
out like an old flame.

Run they say run away, but
here I stand like a rock I am.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Synesthesia tastes like
orange, pink, blue and fireworks streaming across the screen
with static noice changing
from intense to soothing,
sweet to better.

It’s like fireworks going off
in my brain, I can see my
neurons communicating
with each other like
lightning bolts shooting
across my vision
in different colors,
numbers,tastes, and shapes.

Sounds have texture of
painful needles and
stinging ****** that
bloom like a flowering
feeling of fluffy snow
that burns through
my body like cold
lava.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

My life is like a ****
on a string, it tugs and tugs
on my mind reminding me
I am nothing but a speck
in time.

It sets on me, biting my time,
playing with my line,
verberating through my space
like a chilling breeze blowing
through my life.

I grow amongst the
forgotten trees, the only thing
that reminds you of me
is the wind, it blows over
my lems causing them to
bow and sway.

Like the full moon,
you forget about me
until you are reminded
by my looming face that
brightens the sky.

Forget me not for
I too am orbiting
the same sun
as you.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Promises fade
covered by blinded eyes.

Struggle and strife waltze
side by side, weathering
away at life.

This dance is of one life,
with many experiences
breathing knowledge into
its chasm until it is done.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Bathing in the poetic flames,
I am saturated by its blaze
and passionate ways.

An emotional fever
with a lyrical phase
passing over like clouds.

These threaded words
flow so easily,
falling from my mind,
never fading,
spilling over into
this design I’ve created.

Words spill out of me
like a flooded river
crashing into the world
around me.

I strum the strings
attached to my instrument
of poetic design.

This format line after line,
dripping slowly
creating a new design.

I am an innovator
of this creative whom.

I am like a candle in the window
I illuminate your view.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Blunders we humans are,
causing pollution and not caring
about the murderous smog
we produce because our leaders
lie and scam us into thinking
it's not happening at all.

If you are smart you will
see the truth, if you can cause
a ripple in water,
what makes you think
you can't cause the earth
to quicken and quake?

We dig deeper and deeper
into the earth, stealing her life
and resources, too quickly
for regrowth, we also minipulate
DNA trying to make longer
lasting food's.

Over time we caused cancer
and allergies to consume us,
like a shadow it blocks
the light that burns brightly
inside of us all.

Someday we will have to adapt
to the changes we've produce
or go extinct.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Misery likes to keep
commiserate company.

Mixing the bowl of emotional
soup, causing overflow of
stress and anxiety.

Sympathy keeps misery company, having tea every morning. At brunch they talk about the news, all of the shadowy darkness that looms over our heads.

Aching hearts, tugging at the strings of emotionality, we’ve waltzed with our memories many times before.

Misery likes to keep busy,
commiserate likes to remind
us we’re not alone.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I have always wondered
what makes me a poet?

Well, I think I know.

I am able to construct
complex sentences and format’s,
I am very interested in details and being able to express my vision.

I am always pondering
on philosophy and learning,
(Why something moves like
it does exc…)

I am always interested in
the science and engineering
side of life, I want to learn
how to be like everyone else
but still be myself.

My interest in people
and communications, it is
what feeds my poetic flames.

I consider myself a philosopher and innovator of ideas.

If you want to know how
to be a poet, you have to
open your mind to
the possibility of the
idea of being a writer.

You have to ponder on
format’s and word play,
read a dictionary and
the great writers like
Edgar Allan Poe, Stephen King, Anne Rice, Emmy Dickinson, and other philosophers through out history and how they construct their vision.

Read more books and more books until you can’t fit anymore
into your mind.

Allow your mind to wonder,
loss yourself in the forest
of ideas you have growing
in your head. Don’t think about the limitations of your mind,
go beyond the horizon of
what you consider reality.

Your imagination is your
greatest gift.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Like a candle I am waiting
for my muse, you will
find me in the window
pondering, a small flame
ulluminates the room.

I am always in deep thought,
wondering the forest of ideas
I grow within my mind.

Like Alice, I am lost at times
in a poetic wonderland
formatted by my reality.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Painful silence scratches at my heart, leaving deep marks.

You never explained yourself,
instead you leave me in the dark.

You just left me without a goodbye, you didn’t even think about my feelings or anything else.

I don’t understand your lack of words, I am not sure what happened to you for you haven’t given me any response.

You are a theft in the night,
you silently came and stole my heart only to drop it like a piece of trash.

How can you say I love you?
After everything you have done
you dropped me, neglected me
and never gave me a reason why?

The worst type of evil is the silent kind, those who have something to hide are the silent ones, they don’t care about anything you have to give them not even your life.

I will never understand why someone would say I love you and then without any reason drop you.

Where’s the love you said you hold for me?

All I’ve got is a bucket of tears,
a painful burning, and a used mind
you left behind.

Nothing I say gets through to you,
it’s like talking to a brick wall
or quicksand my words fall in but never comes out.

You stole my heart and my everything, with no remorse for the damages you caused me.

You should be ashamed of yourself.
I call you my love because
that’s what you are to me.

Sadly you don’t hear a word I speak, your too busy judging me.

My love is sick.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Love is like a candle
it doesn’t last without
a flame.

It burns so fast, it turns
into memories of smoke
that lingers for only a moment
before it fades.

You are left with a half burnt wick
and a used up waxy stick.

Ashes are smeared on the table
while a heart lays in its own blood
beating one last time before
dieing.

You can blame love for the damages
but never suit for love doesn’t
care for you.

I have made my peace with the world,
but not love for love always
comes back on its hands and knees.

I fell head over heels so many times,
the bruises on my knees haven’t healed from the fall.

Love punishes me.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

I once thought love was
a magical place, where everything
suddenly falls into place.

Sadly I have learned the truth,
love hurts worse than a rotting tooth.

It can be ugly too,
full of hurt and struggles.

I am left chocking on my tears
while my heart tore apart
bruised and fragile like porcelain,
it broke into a thousand words
bleeding from my wounds (poetry).

It flows so easily,
like hot wax melting over the
wick it hardened but without form
or structure. It falls apart
in your hands.

I burst into a puddle of tears,
for my visual can no longer
hold the pressure.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Orange, yellow, and red stream through the dust as it settles down covering the ground and Autumn returns.

Leafs scatter in the wind
as cold chills push the trees.

The clouds become cotton *****
wrapped in there blue skies
and sunshine.

Heavy breath of snow blows
cold kisses upon your cheeks.

Autumn is never black,
its silhouette is orange,
yellow, and red.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

As the sunlight fades slowly
behind the cleavage of the world,
thine eyes close to say goodnight,
leaving a sliver of the moon hanging over your head and a sprinkle of stars cast their blazing trails crowning the sky King of the night.

The valley sighs before
sluggishly bowing to the night, the trees sleep like babies in their rooted beds.

As Autumn came
in the stillness of the night,
she laid her gown on top
the meadows turning the trees
red, yellow, and brown.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Amongst the books I am
torn, tattered, and worn,
my pages are yelled,
my binding fragile and
frayed by age.

My story sat for awhile
before a friend found my
shelf, such poetry I wrought
in slow progress; it is dripping
from the pen I hold within
my poetic brain, and you became
the reader of my poetic tongue.

Like rats my thoughts gather
in a pack of many before
looking for attention and food
so here I am writing for you.

It’s a dilution of words
I spit out for you, like
a flaming candle blowing
smoke into your mind.
I linger on your thoughts
before you ***** my wick
releasing my last bit of
light before I become a memory.

These are the poetic bindings
that hold me tightly
to this world. I am like a
violin you strum my strings
and I will begin to sing.

My poetic bindings hold
me tightly allowing me
to write these lines
of wrought and desire.

This is my poetic binding.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

With a twitch in my step
and a stutter in my brain,
I am autistic but I am
also a person with feelings.

Give me order and I will be happy,
push me off the road and I will
struggle to get back to driving.

I have been fighting
but I also have been
living and enjoying
my life.

Being brave comes easy too me,
but being bold can be a task
like lifting weights, though
I am willing to try new things.

I am not a stranger to anyone,
I make friends like a pro
though I twitch and twist
I over communicate and
speak my thoughts without any
boundaries of my own.

At least you can trust me,
I don’t tell lies for I don’t
think about deceiving anyone.

I want honesty and straight
to the point, I would rather
stick to a line, move slowly
and carefully through this lifetime.

Patience is my gift,
kindness is part of my design,
both are woven into my life
like a tapestry that tells
a story.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Be kind to a stranger and kindness will follow. You might inspire the stranger you helped to do the same for another. It’s karma Baby.  

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I birth poems from my pen,
I pick them when their ready
to bloom, as these words flow
so does my love for the pen.

This ones for you,
my poetic bumblebee
buzzing around my head,
busy as a bee searching for
poetic style, sweet like honey.

I plant ideas in your mind,
spark intrigue and desire to
design this ruthless style
of line after line, formatted
by my poets fire.

I lash out with poetic
vengeance, its loosely shunned
but unruly is my desire
to light this fire.

I open my mind wide
as I spit my poetic flames
like a dragon in ragged by
hunger.

These musings burn deeply
inside my mind, eager
to burst forth from its cave,
no longer in a cage.

I am a poetic Dragon.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Once upon a dream,
the stars fell like burning
embers bursting in the sky.

All my dreams flared like
a candles wick, my passion
sparked its whipping flame
to life.

These darker times bring
cold and hardness but
makes way for heated winds
and sunny fevers of summer.

Autumn never stays long,
winter seems to like it longer,
summer sits with spring
for awhile, before allowing
spring to turn everything
pink, green, and blue.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I am dust and ashes,
I am beaten and broke,
I am fearful and stricken
by emotions that darken my days.

I am sadness,
I am weakness,
I am creaked
and brittle from use.

I am consumption and its
dust I leave behind.

Ruin is my name,
I am ruined by time
and shame.

This life was not designed by me,
instead it’s a design built for
disaster and pain.

Such struggles I suffer,
always wade by the constant agitation of my heart and soul,
pulling me under it’s heavy gantt,
which never slows.
Steady as it goes,
nothing changes it’s scheduled path and codes.

I am painful and slow,
I am living but cold fire burns
within my heated mind.

I am alive this I know,
this life I have weaved
and sewed unit my
very last breath
I will feel its bite
and its bitter sweet taste
I crave.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The shadows can't hide my pain,
in the still of the night you came.

This burning turns into
a nightmare, I am running from
the blazing flames of pain.

I have no time to rest,
I have no time to play,
I have no time to think,
I have only pain.

Very rarely do I get a break,
this life is like a 24 hour job,
I always have to be ready to fight,
I am always ready to go.

This pain takes me under
pulling me under toe,
title wave after title wave
I am gasping for air.

Slowly getting heavy,
with each passing moment,
this pain sits upon my chest
trying to break what I have left.

Still I live,
still I give,
still I keep breathing through
the painful waves that try to steal
my well to live.

Nothing can steal my well to live,
for it grows stronger with
every push and shove,
I just know when to give
and when to pause.

This painful life I live.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I suffer because
I am aware of what
peace feels like.

If I never felt bad
I would never know
peace.

You can't learn if
you don't have
something to relate to.

Life is full of it,
sometimes I am knee deep
in pain, other times
I am happier than
sunshine pouring over
the land, you can see
my smile rising
like the sun.

In my darkest times
I have sat through
chaotic heartbeats,
breath stealing pain
but still I keep climbing
higher and higher.

No mountain is too high
for me to climb,
I can walk through thorns
and still I walk
until the end of the road
or when the line is
too thin to climb.

I am always willing to keep
going even when the mud dries
up, I am patient I will wait
for the rain to wash away the dirt
then I will rise again.

This is life,
a climb to the top
where the air is thin
and your back hurts
but it never truly ends.

We endure much pain
but I know we are strong enough
to get to the top.
You just have to imagine
what it would be like
and never give up.

Success is like having
a can of water but no
can opener, you have to
find another way
to open the can or get water.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

To relate,
to imagine something similar
to what is being shown,
to imagine what it might be like.

A metaphorical meaning is like
being a shadow
that tries to relate to a star.

A poem with metaphorical meaning
is written with more effort, research, and a deeper understanding
of language.

I have written more metaphorical
poems than average poetry.

I work harder on metaphorical
meaning than I would with basic techniques. I love a challenge
so that's why you see more metaphorical poems
written by me.

I have researched many languages
and meanings to words,
my techniques for writing
reflect my efforts.

I am a writer who writes with imagery and metaphor so often that
I am known to be an eccentric writer.
It's an exotic way of expression.

It helps my readers
to relate to what I am thinking.
Also, it is how my brain sees
the world.

I was not born with language
like most people are,
I am an autistic person.
I don't have a natural language
in my mind, I have learned how
to express myself through writing because of my handicap.

I am not perfect but
I try to improve myself
by learning and practice.

I am still learning not to criticize myself too much. I am never a good judge so I try not to think about it
too much. I analyze everything so
I think it's good for me to try
not to analyze my writing
as often as possible.
I end up changing my work
until it turns into something completely different than
it started out if I do.

I want people to see the effort
and time I give my poetry,
so I do my best to show it.
I am always happy to do
something new and challenging.

My grammar and spelling
has improved because
I am willing to take feedback.

I love it when people are honest
and tell me if I made a mistake because I can learn from
the mistake.

To grow and develop you need
a plan and a place to go
when you need space.
I have learned this and
I believe that is what helps me
to improve.

Metaphorically speaking,
I am like a leaf I change with the seasons and I am willing to grow
within a tight space.
I love being with other
leafs like myself.
That's why I join communities
like this one.

Thank you, Hello Poetry.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Deep I lay within the earth,
as decay slowly consumes my flesh.

Here death is my friend
and rot is my companion.

Ash and blood mingle
with my memory and
you will never forget
my name for I live on
through your memory of me.

Upon a poem I slipped from
your lips, as my format
slowly became a smudge
of ink.

These are my poetic bones,
reaching out from behind
death's door.

Dirt I breath forevermore.

I am a poet nothing more than
emotional ink drippings and
formats waiting to for you to read
my poetic bones.

I live forever through the
poetic lines I create.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The path is rocky
full of high hopes
and scarred hearts.

These walls seem to cave in
though underneath its structure
it is well put together.

In my mind I am
always living on the edge,
I totter on my toes,
My legs wobble too and frow
from exhaustion.

This tightrope is tough to walk
but everyone learns how to walk
on the high-rise we call life.

You can't be afraid of the dark
if you want to face your monster's.
You should face your fear
of the dark first.

The anxiety reminds you
of what you think you lack.
Though not many care about
your defaults, they are too busy
thinking about themselves.

Life is like a mystery box,
you never know what you got
until you open the led.

Sometimes you get what you pay for
other times you get more
than you bargained for.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The outside perfume rushes
through the open door,
reminding me of the season,
Fall is making home
upon the land.

Autumn blows her kisses
upon my cheeks, leaving
a cold chill to roll down
my back.

The trees bow their leafs,
as they slowly fall and
change color.

Mother autumn is no stranger
to the Meadows and Hill’s,
she visits once a year.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Stinking, oozing, blistered,
and bruised are my
feelings and opinions.

You have all of me though
you are too blinded by your
selfishness to see me.

I am rotted away
like a bruised and gutted
pumpkin, my grin slouches
and my light burnt out before
you can use it.

You invited evil spirit's
by blowing out my candle;
No use am I without my light.

I am the rotted and used.

No more fun,
No more smiles to enlighten
your darkness do I portray.

My feelings have gone rotten,
you neglected me until
I turned black,
my body lies at your feet
like a welcome mat.  

The flies have come to eat
my heart, though it's lacking in
nutritional value for you over
prossesed my love for you.

You gutted my heart
causing an emptiness to grow,
all while your laugh grew like
an open sore.

You bit me hard,
I broke my back for you.

I left my life behind
when I chose to share
my life with you.

I am trying to regain
what you stole from me
year's ago. Slowly it's becoming
what it was before.

Time is rotten, decay, and wasted
upon the memory of pain.

This love will be the death
of me or a new beginning,
I don't know yet.

We'll see.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

To the chaotic mind
all things are doomed
to suffer the same fate.
Hell is just behind you.

We become like shadows
we think we are hidden away
but reality is everyone can
see you.

All you have to do is
click, post, bang.

In the night ninjas come out
to play, they steal and cheat
with no remorse for
the pain they cause.

We build armor and weapons
only to have them striped away,
a payment for taxes they say.

Our rights are no longer given
those too are no longer a
priority.

The business man is the leader
and the country is no longer
a dreamers domain, they stole
our stars before they had time
to fall. Even our wishes
belong to the dollar.

America was built for the dreamers,
yet you are lied to,
you have nothing to your name;
(The bank owns you.)

You have no rights
the government steals it from you.

Strangers are allowed to squat
in your home, even if you report a
break in, good luck.
No one will fight for you.

The government would rather you
die than protect you from the crime.

They want you to hug your ******
and forgive them for their damages.

There is no true punishment for
their damages. They find druggies
are more worthy of the prison’s.

Your taxes go down the drain,
given too the businesses
and criminals who invade
your lives and properties.
They live freely off your
hard work.

What a shame! Click, post, bang!

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Looking through the eyeglass
of dreams, it seems less likely
to be true than a big drawn out lie.

Though you live your life
the best you can,
knowing you have a heart
full of broken glass
you still move forward
with cuts and scars.

Everytime you look back
you see footprints of where
you last stepped,
what’s the point in that?
You are reminded of everything
you lack, you see with a
greedy heart nothing but hurt
comes from a heart full
of junk yards.

Love is more important than
seeking out emptiness,
don’t collect your broken heart’s,
fell those jars with possibilities
and wishes from afar.

Collect pennies and dime’s
until you can afford your
dreams and possibilities.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

No one said it was easy,
no one said is was going
to be okay.

Perfection was never promised,
happiness was never given,
they are works in progress.

I am like the leafs
I land wherever I please.

I change with the seasons,
hot, cold, wet, and dry
I adapt as the cycle wraps
itself around my little finger.

This life we live
such consequences we sew,
we still try even after the
needle broke.

No one said life was going to go
your way, no one said this is
the only path, because
it’s a work in progress.
We already know that.

It’s a work in progress but I
want to fly someday.

Do you think I will learn
how to grow wings one day?

I hope to learn how to fly someday,
I won’t have to wait for
happiness nor a rainy day for
I will be able to fly to where
it falls. I will be free.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

You are hydrated and fed
through the cultivation
of your life.

You are the designer of your
decisions and paths you pathe.

This journey is roughly drawn
rocky and sharp, you have to keep
your hands inside the ride
at all times, or else you lose
your life.

This life is too short
to always be afraid,
though the biggest fear
we have is fear itself.

To face your fears
you have to expect that it is not
what you are afraid of that
frightens you but it is
not knowing what you face,
(The unknown is the scariest place).

You have been rooted
in the same bed for so long
you forgot about the
others planted beside you.

Don’t forget to open a window
so you can experience something
new and exciting.

Try something new once in a while,
for learning keeps you motivated
and hydrated through a drought.

I have been cultivating my plot
being patient and kind
allowing my fellow gardeners
to be the best cultivators they
can be.

For We all are
growing in the ***** of life.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the wings of darkness
you flew into the view
of my dreams.

There you sat, stealing my breathe.

Slowly silence grew within
my mind, as your wings in folded
my visions of old dreams
they faded into memories.

Like silent rain drops
my dreams fell, as they froze
upon my blue lips, I released
one last gasp of air, it came
like a cold breeze.

This was the day my dreams
died, faded forever never
again will I play within it’s
fields and clover.

For even dreams have to say
fair well.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

How does one see past the murky
waters?

I am gasping for air
as you watch me struggle,
I can sense you are there
seated upon the shore.

You push me under before I have
time to grab another mouth
full of air.

As I come up again
you are relentless you
make it harder for me to
climb ashore.

My heart is laying beneath
your feet, you have left
it bruised and beat.

I will never win against your
sin, you are blinded by your
mind’s broken eyes.

You accused me of nonsense
with no fairness, you don’t
give me a chance.

You judge me,
you damaged me,
you push me until
I lose everything I hold dear.

You don’t care,
you don’t see the love
I have only for you,
I haven’t left you,
I haven’t hurt you,
you still don’t care.

There is nothing I can say or do
to open your eyes, that’s up to you.

I will be here setting in my tear’s,
remembering the good times we had.

Like a dream our love faded away
upon your lack of measure it slipped
from my lips.

All you did was watch me scream,
I LOVE YOU! While I died underneath
your blind eyes.

I LOVE YOU!

How does one see past the murky waters?

I hope this is but a dream.

© 2081 By Amanda Shelton

Heavy lungs,
lifting, shaking, quivering
with every inhale I take.

My lungs are tight,
painful and week but still
I try to breathe.

It's like breathing through
a very small straw
that closes ones it opens for
an intake of full air,
I am half way there.

This is not fair,
it's worse than breathing smoggy air.
If you have asthma
you know what I mean.

I am breaking like a deep diver gasping for air.

I am breathing like a fish out of water;
I am gasping, gulping for air.

Who knew breathing would be such
a labor of love and care?

Asthma steals my breath
everytime I take an inhale and exhale
of precious life giving air.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

He whom we call Lord
cultivates and hydrates the possibilities we crave.

He is the Gardner of our lives,
always watching and protecting
our future.

He is our cultivator and
friend, he gives us provision
and guidance through this
sinful life we are rooted in.

God gives blessings and peace
to those who welcome him
into their lives. So welcome him
with open arms and mind's.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

In between the beams of light
grow the roses. With reaching
limbs like arms stretching
too the sky, and roots
dig deeply seaking hydration
and nutrients in the earth.

We are like the roses,
we grow in between the beams
of God’s light, we search the earth
for hydration and nutrients.

We are child like under
God’s grace and mercy.

Such divine intervention as
is the light God shines
through the smoke and
smog we produce and design.
Sometimes we are blinded
by our smoke and smog,
until we have time to
open our eyes.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I never feel lonely,
but I do feel neglected when
someone who says they have
support for me but doesn't give it.

People can be cruel,
selfish, and crude.
I chose happiness with God
over a dishonest fool who
follows the devil's rules.

What happens when your
partner goes silent?
what happens when your
love of your life quites
communicating?

I find it dishonest when someone
says they want to do but doesn't
follow through.

My heart is shattered
because my love decided to
sin over and over again,
even though I have suffered through
pain while he moved like a ninja
doing bad things.

I am exhausted from fighting,
I am exhausted from holding up
his weak structure.

My love, he doesn't trust in God,
he doesn't come to me and
help me hold up the structure
we're supposed to build together.

I am very sad to say,
I had to let him go
I had to take time away,
so I can heal and he.

I am hurting deep inside,
my heart feels bruised and
tired.

I am here praying for his well being.

Hopefully he lets go and
allow God to bless him.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

It's quite and calm
when the lights go out.

Burning candles in the
night for the electricity
shut down in the
middle of the night.

We don't realize how much
we depend on modern
technology until it collapsed
unto society causing silence
through out the land.

Some will cry for help,
others will be helping,
the few will survive on leftover
fuel supplies.

No internet,
No lightbulbs burning in their
sockets, no refrigerator to keep
food from spoiling.

What would happen if the world
was to plunge into darkness?
We burned all of our reserve's
we used every ounce of oil?
We burned the last candle?

Science says everything runs out of
gas eventually, just as we age our
bodies decay so does the earth.

Without power we'd have to start from scratch, preserve what is left
before we have nothing.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Love aww, what beauty
blossoms upon it’s roots,
fragile but still blooms.

Such thing as love,
a passion like no other.

A phantom in the night
stealing kisses from
your dreams,
love,
love,
love.

A soft touch
a shiver of passion
shimmy down your spine.
A reminder of our last
randavu, a dreamy lover
you are mine.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

"Aww, what beauty blossoms
upon it's roots,
fragile but still blooms."

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton