The life of a poem
can be brief and gentile,
sometimes shady.

It can be designed with
metaphorical stitches or
a piece of charcoal smudged
all over the walls.
With passion and pain
it grows into a poetic sense,
drawn by a struggling mind
eager to express emotional stress.

Over time the skill grows
like a rose blooming from
a bud.

© 2019 By Amanda Shelton