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Amanda Lytton Poem
My adorable one year old ferrets,
so cute and kind.
Full of spirit and joy, always playful and mine.
They jump up and down, grabbing at each other.
They weigh like two pounds.
Light on their feet, they hide and run around.
Laying on the ground, anticipating and waiting for
the right moment to attack.
Cute, cuddly sounds, that sound like snickers.
Long, lean bodies that are graceful and fluffy.
Round mouse ears, used to hear.
Little toes, that they use to scratch their nose.
Always cheeky, squeaky and sneaky.
Shy ferrets, ready to fly.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
In a small shop outside of town,
on a dark and eery day,
while rain comes crashing down,
there I lay in dismay.
Silently I turn my head,
to see my reflection from within.
With words unsaid,
I see my glassy blue eyes.
Where a spirit once lied,
That is now dead.
Left hollow and empty.
A delicate face,
with now cracks in its place.
From hands unfair,
lies these cracks from smacks.
Neck scorned red,
where hands once led,
across its surface.
Arms bruised from the lips of
grips.
Legs with cuts from fallen times,
defending what was rightfully mine.
My dress is ripped and torn.
From a time when my tears were
born.
Breaking chains,
running to far away plains.
Yelling out in pain,
slowly going insane.
With hair amess.
Tick tock....
Tick tock.... goes the clock.
That time has passed.
My skin now shattered,
like shardes of glass.
Now bleeding vains,
like sinking rain,
leaves me with red stains.
Vains now wires,
once hidden my human desires.
Cuts now cracks,
cracks now holes,
now without a soul.
Morphing my skin into porcelain.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
I stand alone from everyone.
In the dark morning shadow, cast down by a tree.
It's long branches lingering above,
reaching out to touch me.
I wait for a ride, with my hands down by my side.
The breeze comes, singing in the tree.
Sweeping its way towards me.
Its cold.
Yes very infuriatingly cold.
It crawls up my skin and sends...
little prickles.
My flesh freezing to the slightest touch.
Unable to move much.
I feel bitter, for I hate the cold.
It makes me feel old.
For I am forced to remember, the old life I once lived.
The things I had to give.
The words left unsaid.
The long ago snowy starry nights, full of porch and street lights.
Yes I remember very clearly, those dreadful long and lonely nights.
I had my sister to keep me company, but no father.
For he would always be mad.
Mad at me, mad at to whom or what I might turn out to be.
I hated him and with him, I hated the cold.
The cold, that now sinks deep within my flesh and into my soal.
Dedicated to my Bastered father
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
The grace, the flow, the singing vibrations.
I'm ready, I'm ready to pull my bow across the river of time.
Time that steadies the flow of these rippling musical notes of mine.
I'm ready to connect with an extravagant classical insturment.
To be one with a delicate and delightful viola.
I'm nervous and shy, for playing in front of someone feels like I'm exposing my inner self through my third eye. I release my self and put my soal into my gracfully flowing fingers, in hopes that they don't deceive me and unintendedly linger. I trust in my abilities as a musician and let my viola sing. Sing for me, and spread my talent and soal, thoughout my music. I stead myself and let the time engulf me, for I am fixed and doing my very best.
As the time drawls to an end, I send my last note and let it linger in the air.
I leave knowing I did my very best, but will that be good enough to get where I want to be? Am I truly talented, is this meant for me? All I can do now is hope for the best and have confident in myself. If putting your heart and soal into something isn't the best, than I don't know what is.
After much stress, I get to know if I achieved my goal. It turns out that I wasn't able to achieve that goal after all and now I'm sad. Sad that my very best wasn't good enough, sad that this is the first time that I haven't reached my goal in music. Everyone else passed and moved on, but not I. I who works myself hard and long to secced in my goals, was turned down. I who comes to class on time, sits up straight, and practices at night on the weekends until late. None of this was good enough, or maybe I'm not as talented like I thought I was.
Warm, wet, tears stream down my face and seep into my skin.
Many things cross my mind this is one I can't simply mend. Should I give up and end? Am I not fit to be a musician? My heart aches to know the truth, to know what I did wrong, but I'm not strong, too afrade to ask. Instead, I cover my deep blue eyes with these small hands of mine. I weep. My brain says to give up, that I'm not good enough, while my heart tells me to keep going, that I have spent too much time, loving and caring for my viola and music of mine. Everyone and thing is putting me down?
I'm truly lost and crying tears, tears of failure so dear........
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
I have entered your room, in search
for something classy and new.
For when I saw your golden
bracelet, I knew exactly what to do.
Forgive me,
for I have taken it.
It was just so pretty and shiny.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
Like rain drops, his fingers trickle over my skin.
His warm arms, melting my flesh to the touch.
The embrace strong and secure.
Locked tight together forever.
Eyes scanning my face, knowing its every place.
Longing to meet with our eyes, looking deep down inside.
Do I dare look away?
To stray?
No, it's too intense and strong.
With emotions like that of a song.
Lips beckoning, teasing, to play along.
The touch of our lips meeting.
Electric and hot, yet full and with a pull.....
comes the burning passion wishing for it to never end.
Let time bend.
Like a gently lit candle my heart turns.
To a place of no return.
Deicated to Kirby Magee-Dittburner
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
Running today I could feel myself losing it.
Losing the pain and troubles I have been endering for the past few weeks.
As I run, feet gladding over the side walk,
I feel everything sliping behind me.
Like dust my troubles and worries,
trace slowly and smoothly off me and into the wind.
The cold air sinking into my skin,
sending uncontrolable shivers though my nerves,
forced to bend.
Breath oddly slow and comforting like the wispering wind on a cold lonely night.
The sun looming over my head as if to aprove of what I am doing.
Coming back moving, my eyes sting with tears,
tears the I keep dear to myself.
Smoothing my face and septing into my skin,
some excape to the side walk leaving my feelings from deep within.
The blissful run is now at its end.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
There are many beautiful things, but none that sing....
like the falling rain...
Slowly falling in time,
trickleing down this face of mine.
To touch my skin,
who's fire has been.
Who's devotion,
flooded my face with emotion.
So clear and ow so dear,
to wipe away all my tears.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
As the days get shorter, and the nights get longer,
my desire to see you again gets stronger.
Long, lonely, stary nights,
soon make my heart take flight.
I look up,
do you see what I see?
The moon reflecting my true self,
that is deep inside me.
I gaze around the dark trees,
wishing you were here beside me.
I would show you the night though my eyes,
the eyes that hold no lies.
I would share the stars and the moon,
and stay out late with you until breaking noon.
I would hold your hand,
and never let go,
even at the very end.
As I open my eyes I can see,
that you are not here with me.
I spot a star,
a red one so far.
I make a wish
one that no one must know.
I hold it deep within me,
there it sits and glows.
It comes from my dreams,
for there is held my deepest wish.
I let it envelope me,
then pushes it out,
high above,
where it can cherished and loved.
My wish you must be guessing,
is a simple wish,
that when I'm gone,
I will surly be missed.
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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Amanda Lytton Poem
Life:
To you, life may seem long and meaningless...
To me, life is the very glass that reflects our
past and fraigle future...
Family:
To you, its the most important and big part of your life...
To me, its the least important thing, full of secrets and lies...
Friends:
To you, they lend you a helping hand...
To me, they're a hasle and not really worth my time...
School:
To you, its the latest gossip...
To me, its a jungle Not worth exploring...
Money:
To you, its all about what you can get out of it...
To me, its the symbol of greed...
Homes:
To you, its the confort of being safe...
To me, its a traped cage...
Lovers:
To you, they acquire you're love...
To me, they're God's messed up way of toying with you...
Music:
To you, its just a reason to dance...
To me, its my very essence...
Animals:
To you, they're your toys to screw and spit out whenever...
To me, they're my very being, my reason for living...
Earth:
To you, its your personal trash can...
To me, its the beautiful foundation of my very existence...
Yeah, I definitly see the world threw passionet eyes like no other,do you love me now...
Copyright © Amanda Lytton | Year Posted 2012
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