You know your a poet when your spitting out poetry and you trip over the words but it still makes sense.

The format keeps flowing, floating in your mind like a leaf on the breeze. It landed upon this page.

Mouthful of grunge and ***** blues leaving my jeans stained with regret, I didn’t express myself sooner than I expected.

Now I am mowing the lawn with over the top wordplay, spitting my poetic fire like a rapper losing volume quite but still slick from losing my grip. I catch myself quick.

Twisted rhythm with grinding rhymes and flooding banks of expression. I never leave without passion, I burn like a wick my candle is hot and half melted. Its wickedness lashing out from the blazing words I am expressing.

Call me a poetic fool but I am not joking, my passion burns holes through the internet disconnected from myself, just so I can express myself.

I think like a flower, my passion withers away if I don’t keep expressing in poetic ways.

I hold a lot of power in my words. Words are mightier than a sword. But only if you keep writing…

Express yourself just keep writing.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton