Blue bubble
Blue bubble
Flower
Green
Stick freshly planted
Plant an entrance to a secret level
Mario
Cactus
Christmas tree

I'm trying to be happy
And positive
And glow
But it is not for me
I'm trying to be good
And write about happy thoughts
And not write about how every time I smile my face autocorrects it to a frown and I can't help it because that is just me
I'm trying to be happy because that's what people tell me
I'm trying to be me because people tell me to be myself
But myself is sad
Sad is me
I am sad

I’m sorry for all I do to you
Cut
Scratch
Burn
I rip you apart the way I do in my mind
I am insecure about you
I hate you
All I see in the mirror
Is the ways you fail me
The ways I am flawed
They say your body is a temple
But you must be ruins
And I am the earthquake that made you this way

I don't dance when I am told to,
I don't talk when I am spoken to,
I don't follow your directions,
I don't live to love,
I love to live and to break your rules.

I don't walk when I am done,
I don't yell when you can't hear,
I don't think like you do nor care to.
I don't live to love,
I love to live and to break your rules.

I am that shadow on the wall,
I am that black cat sleeping on your roof,
I am that purple colored hair wearing a hat,
I am the poet your teacher's warned you about,
I am the mountain that moved.

I don't write for your entertainment,
I don't write for your amusement,
I don't write to please you,
I write because I love to.

This is not for your entertainment.

**© By Amanda D Shelton

It's another day,
Nothing's changed
You'd think it boring
When it stays the same

Perhaps it is,
But not to me
You could call it bad,
Predictability

I get by,
With my wicked ways
I'd load up
Though I know the names

**** digging my way to hell
I'll just take the elevator

she wrote
so dark
there was
never any
light
between her
lines

he wrote
so sad
there was
never any
life
between his
lines

she wrote
one last time

he wrote
of suicide

whiff of her long hair
black lashes on her oval eyes
crescents on her lips
slender hands
sparkle adorned meek finger
n her ****** skin
thy beside

eyes are shut
lips are mum
hands anchored to lap

yet i see the glint of her eye
hear her word
feel her hand

an echo from da time gone
its just that she is gone

------the egotist