Amanda Pierce Poems

Tears roll down my face

Because the past won't be erased
...

He smelled like winter and summer all at the same time.

His voice was like the early stage of pubescence, but he was so cultivated.
...

Watch as my hair coils up like that paper you balled up to dispose of.
Just like my hair society throws out the option of wearing natural, so we pay money to feed our appearance but not our bodies.
I refuse to feel guilt of my heritage.
I wear it proudly on my head because when all the money's gone, the mirror reflects what you were born with.
...