Rushing through this moment on
a passing fraze, I fell along the way,
the rocks and dirt scraped my knees.
I bled poetry.

Running on a moment, got no time to sit
got no time to be falling on a dream.

I am running fast but times faster,
it's like being on the edge of possibilities
but never catching up to the dream.

The clouds gather here, a deep oppression
buried me in six feet of pain and suffering.

Rushing to the end, it seems deep but
there's only an inch of time to climb.

The walls slowly crumble, the house begins
to rumble, the ground shivers and the weather
quivers, life is one moment full of broken foundations and ruined walls that fell.

Only one remains, a 41 year old foundation
I've built from the ruins of my past.

These walls are built from pain,
the floor is made from my
broken heart pieces, the frame
is designed by emotions I've felt
alone the way. Love makes
the foundation strong and stable.

Life is not fragile and slow,
it survives many storms and
it is pathed with passion and strife,
the cold cuts like a knife, the heat
burns for a moment. But still I remain.

I rose from the ruins of my strife,
upon the broken ribs and grinding
pain I crawled. Picking up the pieces
from my broken heart.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Me: Don’t you come any closer!

I am warning you!

Please don’t come over, please.

I am trying, I am calm.

Don’t come back please!

I don’t like you.

Your horrible.

I hate you, your a monster.

Why are you here?

How do I stop you?

Go away!

Ouch! I am crying and oozing.
I want to bang my head into
the wall. I can’t set still.

It hurts so bad.

Cluster headache: Hahaha! Geer!
I bite you and stabe you in the eye.

You can’t stop me!!!

I will be back, you won’t see me coming.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

"To be a creative thinker
you need to dream.

Awake or sleep a dream
can still follow you."

**© 2017 By Amanda D Shelton

I can see the sun slowly going down,
my curtains show green and brown
it the dimming light.

Makes me ponder upon
daydreams of the marrow.
I will miss this day until the next
settles in my mind, making way
for tomorrow.

The shadows lengthen,
as a cool breeze rushes through
reminding me to close the door.

Goodnight says the sun,
good evening says the moon and stars,
as my eyes get heavy with sleep;
they wave at me.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

The couch shook as the thunder cracked rearing across the sky.
My heart fluttered with excitement
as my back felt the shiver.

As the wind is blowing the trees
are forced to bow and sway.

The rain is pouring like a flood gate
opened from the clouds.

Electricity is in the air, the storm
is brewing within my poetic mind
and outside.

As my sorrows ponder on the
weather.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Hearts shatter so easily,
the pieces are sharp and crude.

The fragile pieces keep
cutting into my life,
making new wounds each time.

You take your knife
pushing it deeply
into my already broken life,
you ***** it deeper
until there’s nothing left
for me to bleed out.

You collect my suffering
in your ***** jar’s,
savoring my last heart beat
as if waiting for another
so you can take one more slice
just incase it didn’t fell
the jars to there brem.

You have become a grim reminder,
I shouldn’t trust you
as my friend or lover.

Sadly I have been through hell
many times before,
and I have grown stronger.

© 2018 By Amanda D 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

When I was younger I flew
the koop, no cage could keep
me from flying this *****
grave of doom.

Life came to make friends
with me, I agreed to stay.

It was great until the storm came,
it washed away the sunshine,
it drowned my mind in love
and pain, it stole my
jars of broken hearts,
it broke my wings and forced
me down, my chair became
the cage now I’m back to
being a slave to my health.

That’s life, you live and die,
you suffer and fly, you climb
mountains, float down rivers
and lakes, you surfe the
biggest waves.

In the end we end up in
the grave.

Don’t forget to breathe,
take longer breaths,
just take your time;
you’ve got unknown
amounts of time.

This asthma induced disease
we call life has no insurance
or warranty.

So live well and you won’t
go to bed regretting your
dreams. Don’t cover yourself
with the dirt from the roads
you’ve built.  Instead let go
of all regret go to your dirt
bed clean.

©️ 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Everyone is capable of being
a victim it doesn’t matter what
color, gender, size or lifestyle.

We are all human beings.

People who claim men are
not capable of being a victim
are abusive and they are guilty
not men.

Also, no means no,
silence means no,
walking away means no,
its stalking if you follow someone
after they said no or didn’t engage
you.

Just because they spoke to you
doesn’t make them your partner
or friend.

If you want a partner don’t be a
creeping stalker.

If you don’t get the point you should
go away and stop making excuses
for your abuses. Take responsibility!

People need to be honest and
educated so we can fight the abuse
and win.

Free the victim and
give them a path to survival.

Don’t be silent about abuse.

Be loud and proud to speak the truth.

Everyone deserves the same respect.

“Love is acceptance and success
because it helps build societies
so be kind to each other and
humanity will thrive.” ❤

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

When I was younger,
life was supposed to be simple.
Sadly I am not a simple person,
my life has been painful,
full of disorderly view’s,
I never got to choose.

Slowly as I grew,
life got easier
more positive construction
than before.

What changed?

Well, I did.
I took the reins,
I took control over
my own destiny.

I set a destination,
I packed my life into
my suitcase of forgotten dreams.
Set out for my adventure
to face my battle’s.

Today I am happier than ever,
I don’t fear life because
I faced death before it
could steal my life.

I chose to fight,
I chose to live my life,
through thick and thin
I walk the line in between
fear and suffering,
never falling too far
from the line.

I am walking the line,
it might be bent oddly askew
but I am still walking through.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Crash into me, brush aside your wasted time, I have a rhythm for your mind.

I’ve been ******* on a dime, I like it’s flavor, I know I am odd.

Can you ******* rythme, can you feel it’s metal zinging on your mind?

I’ve been working on this for some time, working up line by line building the ****** to engage your brain dragging you deep into my mind.

This is the depth of my existence, the ink bleeds from my arteries. Poetry is what I leave behind, my missy floods of expression.

Your left swimming in my pools of formatted creations, passion brings you to my surface.

I zing upon your mind, the taste is like metal, cool and you climb my mountains of rhymes. I’ll catch you if you fall, my rhythm catchs everything.

This rolls so easily off the tip of my tongue, like a cool breath exhaled with my rythme following behind. I plant my poetic kiss upon this page for you to consume.

Thanks for stopping by.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Around, all around,
the sinister creatures gather.
My dread grows
as the dagger of life falls
against my heavy heart.

It wounds me,
and slowly my
essence drips
to the thirsty earth.

In a strange and terrible frenzy
I flee! while doom looms over me.

Now alone,
my fervent plea falls upon deaf ear's.

This is my doom,
my last plea,
nothing can save me
but me!

©2018 By Amanda Shelton

She’s got diamonds in her eyes,
she glistens and shines.

Through the night I don’t
need the light for she shines
for me.

Like a candle in the window,
she’s the stars to my sky’s.
We travel far and wide on
the wings of our imagination
and we fly like smoke upon
the night air on strings of
poetry.

She brings me my muse,
ideas abound as the moon
smiles upon the night my
heart swoons with gay poetic
delight.

Poetry is her name, she’s my
muse and inspiration. In the
depths of my lonely nights
we fly together and I forget
I am alone.

Poetry follows me everywhere
I go, like a shadowed muse.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

I was a fool, always searching
for the one but none were
as blind as me.

Amongst the roses are the
thorns, and the weeds lay
beneath they like to choke
everything.

I was a fool, for love hit me,
tripped me and played my
heartstrings like a fiddle.

Foolish me, always searching
for the one but none were
as blind as me.

I once laid beneath the roses
as the bush slowly wrapped
itself around my heart stabbed
me deep in the back with its
thorns, as I hydrated it's roots
with my blood it drank my pain
and stole my gain.

Love fooled me, it was beautiful
in the beginning.

Until it revealed itself,
a rose it was not and
it mistaken-ed me for
a ****.

A fool I was, always searching
for the one but none were as
foolish as me, love blinded me
with its promises and false
reality.

Loves no dream, its no
magical spell or the greatest
most amazing thing ever.

Love is tragic, painful and
disastrous its painfully
damaging heartbreaking
and it causes scars.

Love is powerful because
its the most beautiful,
confusing disaster
you will ever experience.

Its the scars that define your
strength after a heartbreak,
what bites you can make you
stronger and smarter it can
teach you how to find true love.

We all are fools to love,
the first heartbreak is
the deepest pain and
leaves the biggest scar.

To guard your heart is the most
important thing, don't give it to
just anyone.

Find someone who enjoys life
with you and encourages you
to be your best and holds
your hand when you need
support. Also, remember to be
patient and kind.

Love is attracted to kindness
it finds it beautiful and amazing.

Love is inside of you,
its part of us all.

Love is success and acceptance,
it helps build societies.

A fool in love is a fools lesson.

©️ 2024 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

Upon the passing of time
I am slowly depleting
my cells vibrating gradually
expanding my existence beyond
my skin, mind and body.

I am like a star, burning
fuel as I collide with life
pushing farther into the vastness
of space, time and the infenant
continum of my existence.

My impacte is that like a
grazing cow, my imagination
chews upon reality spewing
knowledge from my philosophical
mind into the chasm of my unique
reality. It grows in the passage
of time.

As I struggle in my profound
rose bed, plotting my seasonal growth.
The poet in me arches forward
in an attempt to express itself.

With my poetic fingers crucified
for my style and format
I suffer for my artist and
I share the bruises
life has to offer me.

I am the Gothic muse
a shadow rose, I leave behind
a poetic perfume, with notes
of passion and the slow weathering
petals of my budding expressions.

Like a caged bird I’ve
flown the coop breaking free
from my caged mind.

I traveled the world of
my imagination may times
before, and upon my dreams
I’ve awoken to the possiblity
of a broken ideology
of the worlds sinful nature.

Its cruel and callous in its
abused status of corruption
and its waning actions feeding
the masses with lies and deception.

These are sad times, indeed
but still the sun will rise
and the moon wanes and space
continues to grow making room
for new structures and the cycle
to go on until the end of time.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Like flies,
lies breed maggots of deceit,
eating away at moral values,
leaving nothing but ruins.

They fester in your life,
causing devastation
and disease rot and
pollution.

It has many names,
but only one meaning.

Lies lay beneath,
as you fester and plot
preparing for the next crop.

Deceit is like death,
it kills all possibilities.

©️ 2025 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

Let me help you step through
the looking glass so you can
see what's on the other side
of me.

I am a survivor!
I will not be silent any longer.

This is me pounding on the post
yelling at my ghost.

Leave me alone, why don't you take
what you came for?

Why don't you leave me and take
everything so I can start over?

I don't need this abuse,
you have nothing but excuses.

I am not the failure, you are the
damages that follow my every step.

I am a survivor! PTSD is my struggle.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Inspirational and dreed,
we puke up our word's
unit nothing is left.

Poetry is dead,
for we've rubbed it raw,
broke it down into the tiniest pieces.

Now we poets have to prove our right
to call ourselves a poetic crime.

We write it out, draw the line
slowly bleeding what we define.

Our fingers are raw, red,
and bleeding ink,
since dying for our format
is a true crime.

Poetry is dead because it's stuck choking on my mind.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

Gentle winds blow through the trees,
as the golden light from the day
glint and shine.

A reminder of the cooler sessions
before the heat stole it's time.

The land becomes dry and hot,
as life pushes through its waves,
it survives.

The sun seems like a burning blaze,
and I am its burnt egg.

~Burning summer blazes away~

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

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

I am also, an artist,
with paint running through
my veins, and a bigger
picture mapped out in
my brain.

Its a big responsibly,
my birthright is to
be a philosopher.

I love learning and sharing
the knowledge.

Philosophy is simple, but the
concept is complex and diverse.

It can be a river of flooded
concepts, rooted in historic
preservation of ideas.

Philosophers like myself
preserve the ideas of its
concept’s and diversity.

Faith keeps my interest free
and unchained by societies
views of how life should be.

I knew early on in my life,
I am the master of my own destany.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I once fell from the sky,
only to be awakened by the fall.

I opened my eyes to find
my bedroom wall's
where there the whole time.

Dreamers can imagine,
but writer's can imagine
and relate to the dreamers.

That's why we write and read.

Inspiration is the key
to imagining great things.*

*© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

You stole my heart
as well as my security deposit.

You grew your lies upon
my womanly intuition
as it grew like bonfires
lighting up the sky.

I knew by looking in your eyes,
you are drowning in your stories
of disguise, (You are not a spy).

You might try to hide
but you are like a cat,
everyone can see your
wiggling ****.

I know a thief when I see one.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

Its a thin line between
okay and not okay.
A maybe is my best answer.

Yeah, I'm fine.

I have grown into a thorny rose,
hydrated by my broken heart
as it bleeds out before you in
poetry.

My roots are tangled in old
plots of forgotten dreams
that never had a chance
to be free.

The snow falls upon my lucid
mind drunk on lost love
that once was mine but
you crushed my dreams
and left me in your ruins.

Oh love, you lost me to
your decay, and the lies
you display burned the road
we were supposed to build
together.

Only weeds remain.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

Us poet's collide with the shore,
with our expression and
drawn out breathes.

It's like the birth of a star
but it's too dimly lit at first.

Until the galaxy gets ahold of our word's.

It pulls and tugs on our poetic tongue's forcing explosive expression to burst forth, and here we are.

Porcelain angel has a
heart of glass,
every breath she takes
causes another break.

Fragile she is but still
she fights, as if her heart
is made from concerete.

Her feet are firmly planted,
but her foundation is not
rooted, so she’s holding steady
upon a weekend bed.

Her ground is felled with
broken dreams, and buried
wishes never seen
by the falling stars
that shoot above her head.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton

If you give a pig a badge
you are going to get *****.

If you give a good productive person
a badge you are going to get an officer.

A police officer should be willing
to sacrifice their lives for their
community.

You can't be a criminal and
an officer.

They don't mix.

What happens when you put a pig
in mud? A ***** pig.

What happens when you give a criminal a badge? A ***** cop.
It's a pig in a muddy blanket.

Trouble has a badge and a gun,
all you have to do is interrogate
them and watch them squeele.

Mud drys and pigs can't fly,
so watch them piggies roll
and the mud drops revealing
their crimes.

Oh you, you ***** little piggy.

Shameful, ***** you.

***** cop's drip with mud leaving
their piggy prints caked on
the crime scene.

Shame, shame little pig.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

Upon the hot beams of sunlight
I bring my heart as the dawn
beckons me to your arms.

I am reminded of your memory
as mornings first breathe
is taken upon my senses it
rises as I awaken.

That like a seed
love grows and roots
itself upon our bed
of hearts building
a plot for the future.

The roots grow stronger
with the struggles and
adventures we experience
together.

Upon loves flight we are its capulets
of two star crossed lovers.

A poetic love like no other.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

Tatter tatter, tatting my life,
like fragile lace I am made from
thin threads of memories and trauma.

Tug tow and pull, on my life as
I write my designs exposing
my frade and fragile times.

Here I feel free, a place
to spread my wings.

I will never forget my struggles
for they are important.

Tat tat tattered, I am made
like that.

Sewn by scars and wrinkles,
as I grow.

Like old blue jeans,
I slowly fade into gray
fragile threads loosen
at my ends. Unraveling
my experiences
like used blue jeans.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

We birth nation's between our thighs,
I grew confidence in my experience,
I am proud and brave,
I fight with poetry as my sword,
I am a woman and poet.

You fell in love with my poetic format,
I make your heart beat quicken
and shake as words flow
from my lips.

I am a woman and poet,
My digital quill quivers and
stains these pages we create.

I am a woman and poet
of the digital age 2018.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

We all are born drowning in reverse from the watery womb blood and breath, we merge naked.

Slowly losing energy every molecular dies.

High tide low tide,
up and down the river we climbed, we all are born to rise and fall, six feet under the cold hard stone choking on the earth until our bodies are bones.

Holy no, no one can control it
oh no oh Lord no... Deaths following always at my heels waiting for my days to end.

Here I am still drowning in reverse waiting for the ship to take me to heavens glory. I've been surfing on high tides up and down the rivers grind.

©️ 2024 By Amanda Shelton

“Play the poem like a song long forgotten, it blew away when the wind decided to play but poetry will never forget me, for I write poetry.”

**© 2017 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

Upon my faith grows
my strangth,
deeper and deeper
my roots dig deep
into the hollow.

I become that like
a tree, my seed is small
but my roots are strong.

The more I pray
the deeper I grow
deep into the hollow,
no devil will pull me
a stray.

My faith is strongly
rooted within the depths
of the hollow, I will
always pray.

My roots,
my roots,
dip deeply into
the hollow.
I kneel to pray.

Dear Lord,
thank you for my strength,
thank you for the blessing
of your ever growing spark.
Aman!

My roots grow deeply
into the barren landscape
every autumn my leafs
will fall, revealing my
trunk leaving you
a reminder I too am
a survivor.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton

Within my feverish dreams
lives passed ink smears,
designed by my scar’s.

My blood is the ink,
my passion is the needle
tattooing heartache and
suffering upon this digital
skin.

This grave I’m digging
is of my own design.

Watch me climb higher and
higher! Line by line…

The ghosts pound upon this post,
screaming in silence as I stitch
my design.

With a tear falling down my face
and a whisper from my dreams,
I write this poem.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

Should you be sad for
my ocean eyes?

Love bleeds from my broken heart, felling my dreams with drowning sorrows of past experiences of lovely
blues and greens.

The waves are a reminder of
the broken dreams we suffered
together, as our love crashed
into the shore.

I regret nothing but waiting
for so long to walk away
from these bruised memories
of who you are.

I make new dreams healing from
the wounds I’ve dressed with
my armored lives I grew with
weeds and broken hearts,
I keep them tightly sealed
within my caged self.

Yet, I let my sorrows fly free
like a bird crying for the sky.

Should you be sad for
my ocean eyes?

Love crashed ashore breaking
the tides with its chaotic lies.

Love came upon a whispering wind, touched the depths of
who I am, and kissed my soul leaving me with ocean eyes.

I am weeping under the trees
of broken dreams where my
lost lovers crimes are barried
deep within the earth, there
in the hollow girth I placed
a stone in memory of you.

With deep sorrow I say goodbye
to my pain and suffering.

Such dreams are to come
when I close my ocean eyes.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton

I’m hanging on the tree of shade,
my shadow lowers to the roots
to drink the mudy waters soaked
into the earth from the rain.

Secretly its my tear’s from year’s
of mental abuse.

I’m like a fruit not yet ripe
for picking.

My shadow lurks hiding my face
for my mirror image is not what
you see, but to me is monstrous.

A reflection of hair, bones and
teeth; sharp like fangs and weeds
for bands its a choking hazard.

I’m hanging on the tree of shade,
my shadow lowers to the roots
to drink the mudy waters that
drips from my pain.

It hydrates depression and anxiety
it grows like black mold.

Depression is deep, anxiety is
bleeker. Together they are blacker
then black, deeper than deep and
burns cooler than the flames
I desire.

©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton

Amunst the books I am most comfortable
for paper and ink never judges me.

It takes me to possibilities of
vast knowledge and brings me to a
special journey to the center of
my imagination.

I fought battles with bat people and
Joan Of Arc. I swam in alien oceans
and flew with fleet’s of flying fish
that came from my imagination leaping
forth from the depths of the pages.

I wrote some of these stories.

Books have secrets waiting to be
discovered you just have to get
passed the cover.

My ability to write poetry
brought me to the edge of
my creativity.

My poetic plot’s are hydrated
by my inspiration and muse books
upon books.

I’ve got hundreds piled inside
my vast memory bank.

I have no need to make space
for my brain is wired differently.

Reading is good practice for writing,
for a good writer can dissect how
another writer creates their own plots.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton

I would give you 0* if it was
possible.

This isn't a game it's a
advertisement for your wallet.

There's no rewards.

Everything is about advertisment
and we get stuff.

Playing the game doesn't reward
it's another ad break
even after watching an ad
for double the rewards.

Still no rewards just next level
after watching another ad.

Ad, ad, ad, ad, ad and
I lost my sanity after
the third ad.

Ad me on the no more
I'm uninstalling this
sanity theft it's another ad!

Awwwwwwwww!
Please spare my sanity.

Now I am hallucinating ad's
I dream about ad's,
I eat ad's,
I drink ad's.

Ad's ad's ad's!

Now I am writing a poem about ad's.

Thanks Google!

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

We are like poems,
we grew from a plot
and rooted ourselves
hydrating and feeding
our poetic seeds through
internet communities.

Each individual poem is a
unique experience and
it brings us together.

I believe words can cure
a broken heart, bandage
a mental bruise and
an emotional wound.

It can cure sadness for a moment too.

It can be a reminder
of the good and bad.

A way to cope with reality
when our minds get lost
in a dream created by society.

I don't fit your mold,
I don't move with the same
flow as you, I don't walk but
I can talk and write poetry.

Are you a robot or
part of society?

Society has tried to breed
stupidity and incompetent
people, but not everyone
follows the flow.

People like me breaks the mold,
oozes out with creativity and
uniqueness like it's a new fashion trend.

We are change,
we are the lessons you have been needing to break free
from societies views of
who they want you to be.

What others want you to be
doesn't matter in the end,
only you hold the key to your
destiny and future.

You don't have to follow the
line when your future is across
the line. All you have to do is
build your own paths and roads.

My foundation is poetry,
it brings me to my future
and reminds me of my past
so I can move forward and heal.

Poetry is my destiny and future
it brings me to the crossroads of
my life so I can ponder upon
my choices and I don't make
bad decisions.

For me poetry is meditation,
a self discovery.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

The table is set
the plates and cups
are ready for dishing.

I'll be serving dinner,
karma's the host and
I'm her ghost.

Watch your step and
mind your manners,
karma's a host that
plays no games.

She'll remind you when
you stubbed your toe,
if you forgot your keys
and forgot to add the sugar
to sweeten your tea.
Karma's bitter and sweet.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

What lights my flame like poetry?

A kindling to my fire,
an inspiration to my blaze,
poetry blew me away...

P is for perfection.
O is for opportunities.
E is for excellent.
T is for textures.
R is for rare.
Y is for you.

Poetry is perfect just the way it is. It can bring opportunities to all who write its formats. Its an excellent way to express yourself. Also its full of textures. It can be rare if written well. Its personal, sincere and true to you.

© 2018 By Amanda Shelton

I am a Poet,
I have the ability to
paint images with words
and formats.

I curl your mind onto a window sill,
with my wordy tongue I bring
you stories and rhythm
as I play my poetic drums;
I help you to relate to
my words and actions
through word play
and dancing format (poetry).

You are important to me,
you are my fans
and my inspiration for
improvement.

I drum, drum, drum as
I strum, strum, strum
my poetic tongue,
pulling at your mind
as I play my rhythm
a string of rhymes
playing with my poetic chimes.

I am a Poet.

© 2018 By Amanda D Shelton