I a dying rose, I have nothing
but perfumed words.

I a nobody, I have nothing
but poetry.

I a shadow, I have nobody
but myself beside me.

I a lingering sigh, I have but one
chance one life to do my best.

I am living on a breath, a wind that
blew from the west and settled
on your screen through poetry,
line by line I lay down my life.

I am like a seed, not like the rest
rooted in sand I started out half
sunk but grew stronger and
deeper reaching for the rocks
to build a stable foundation.

Here I rise, I shine and
grind the keyboard until
it lags.

Sometimes spell check thinks
I'm British French and Spanish,
once it predicted Romanian
was my first language.
What happened to English?

I'm white but am I really?

If you cut me do I bleed
white or blood? I swear
I am human.

I don't think my keyboard cares
it just sits and stares tries to
predict but fails.

Now I am a poet with broken English
not by choice but by design of
spell check, my skin is really
partly translucent.

Here I bleed poetry and prose spill
from my fingertips like a wizard
blowing smoke like a dragon.

Here you come to witness my strum,
my tugging and pulling brings you
closer into my cave of batty gloom,
that I resurrect from the deepest
parts of my mind.

Mute I am.
I arm myself with deeper meaning
to express myself, otherwise
I am silent and scared over communicate and second
guess myself.

©️ 2023 By Amanda Shelton

It could happen one day
Maybe even tomorrow
That Hellopoetry goes
FREAKING VIRAL
And suddenly
We become cool
For a few minutes
All the secrets we told
In virtual anonymity
Since nobody in our family
Bothers with poetry
BOOM!  
Mainstream
Attached to our names
I don’t know if it’d be a dream come true
Or curse
For most of us

i loved you more than anyone
i watered and adjusted our love to the sun
i watched it grow and blossom
and it only kept growing
it filled the blank spaces
it filled the emptiness
it was comfortable and safe
it was complimented and made sense

suddenly you stopped watering it
it never grew the same
i tried so hard to keep it alive
i tried to hard to make sure it was okay,
but without you it wilted.

i think you realized it was dying
you started giving it more attention
you started to try and find the right light
you bragged about it to your friends
you did everything you could.

why would i water it
why would i let it feed off my air
why would i let it occupy my space
why would i let it consume me,
when you let it die in the first place.

now there’s a hole.
in my space.
in my mind.
in my heart.
you stopped, i stopped, it’ll never be the same
unless we both care for it again.

Clocking in,
Trudging on,
Grinding the nose down to the bone,
Clock out,
Et cetera,
Ad Nauseam,
Goes the routine of the last of the Blue-Collar poets.

Can't think of words,
Too dog-tired to think of rhyming schemes,
Too sore for clever entendres,
Too broke to focus on fixing verses, stanzas, and metrics.

Thinking of the too-long day,
And the too-long day to come,
Fighting for a long shot of a good-night's sleep,
For a glimmer of a decent day off,
Clawing for a decent day's pay.

Sweeping up the metal shavings,
Spattered with hot, hot grease,
Bones broken by falling boxes,
Maimed by unsafe machines.

Keep the Blue-Collar poet in mind,
As you operate your computers,
Sitting in your White-Collar dream,
For their fledging numbers dwindle,
That will never get the chance at your dream

I held you softly
as you slept
I held you gently
as you wept
I held you tightly
as you screamed
I stroked your hair
as you dreamed
I wiped the tears
that would not dry
I cried the tears
you would not cry
I took the demons
in your head
and made them
Mine instead
I need to be
by your side
don’t turn me away
I am not your Pride
I am not your Pity
I am not your Sorrow
I am here Today
I am your Tomorrow