In the Mirror mind
A Reflection of what lies beyond the soul
Why am I, who I hardly know
The Demon waits outside my home
Whistling echoes in the snow

The hollow heart carved up by relentless thought
Cold chill of darkness down the chimney across the hearth
This house my home a machine for living
The ugly sins come knocking at my door
Memories thrown from the mantle
Lying fragmented on the floor

Beside the carpet, Where the stain it ever grows
And the role call of madness ever shows
Perfect façade, One true skill
To hide from those, Who i deceive without thrill
A bolt and chain to lock away the truth
My home is ravaged by the ghosts of youth

The fireplace lit, An amber glow embraces life
All to replace my home, With
Ashes of Happy.
Ashes of Sad.
Ashes of all that made my world feel bad.

Avoid of me,
yet it spills forth from my poetry.

Each letter is formed from
my wicked mind,
whipping and lashing
at your growing need for more.

I write poetry,
not to entertain you
but to watch you ask for more.

I a minion to my pen,
scratch and smudge my ink across
your computers screen.

Fingerprints of a poet,
are not well deserved,
bypassed by you
for one word can do.

A poet I am,
a painter of word’s,
an entertainer of sorts.

I just love playing with my word’s.

**© 2017 By Amanda Shelton

Some poems I write on paper
Paper I'll burn later that day
So that all that'll remain
Are the beats in my chest
And the aches in my head

Some poems i hold on to
So that after years from writing
When memory fails
And hearts beat to different tunes
All that'll remain
Are words inked on paper.

To hear my name uttered from your lips
Is like the sirens song
A thing of utter beauty
That leaves me perilously dashed upon the rocks

Wherever you are
That is where I belong.

That's why when I miss you
I say I am homesick.