From the gaping wounds I escape,
from its painful thrubs I leap,
relief is found in formatted sentences
and bleeding ink I smudged upon these pages.

For you to leave this page empty and
confused is to know I failed
to write a good poem.

It takes a master to draw you
in, it takes skills to paint
with words like an artist
paints with brushes.

Years of research and experience,
builds a masterful piece of work
and expressions.

Time dosen’t heal alone,
it needs help along the way.

Line by line,
slowly I build my rhyme,
it grows like a flower slowly
blooming into a beautiful tapestry;
complex and designed by a poetic
mind.

My threads are heavy, easy to read
and to imagine my story.

The simplest words and softest lines,
can build a tapestry so beautiul it
burns in your mind for a long time.

©️ 2021 By Amanda Shelton