I slowly became rooted within
the fiber’s of my chair, it
supports my life of pain
and grind.

With its needless blues and greens rushing through my veins.

The blues are sadness,
the greens are my favorite
things I miss the most.

I once had a dream now
I am lost amongst the clouds
and the fiber’s of my life.

I once was a shy girl,
I grew into a poetic format
that is rooted in my life like
the chair is rooted in my strife.

My blues are easy to express,
it flows with a slight pressure
a push and shove. Once I open
the gate it floods the page with
my tears and faith.

With my broken heart I fell apart
but poetry keeps it hanging on
by a thread. My love bleeds out…

Love gave me doubt and a reason
to run out. I became its broken jar
full of bruises and tears.
Don’t forget the poetic formats
that bleed from my roots and drowned me in tears.

You became a scar upon my heart.
The scars are inspiration burning
hot and it grows wild deep inside
its depths. Now its rushing,
gushing out.

© 2020 By Amanda Shelton