Biography of Amouta Stardancer
I've been writing since the sixth grade, and I always have a poem in the works, either a topic, or a scratch poem in the editory process. I've been published here and there, mostly by those scam sites, that SAY they've published me... though I'm too cheap to buy their anthologies so who knows. Writing just comes naturally to me, I hope you like my work but even if you hate it I'll keep on doing it anyway, I've found the best poems are those that are just for myself. I'm greatful for any feedback and take all comments into account.
On a personal note, I'm obsessed with werewolves, on my way to college next year (scared stiff, but excited) , hoping to land a career working with animals (preferable wild ones) ... and that's pretty much me.
Amouta Stardancer Poems
Rose Petals rain down, angel blood falls far, rose petals rain down, and soak the world with war.
Why do we look down to pray? “Please stand for our morning petitions.” The intercom crackles over the school. All rise to stare at their feet,
Strangers in the same home, is it really that? With all the space between us, home?
I'm not a bandaid, a phone call, won't fix anything. Sweetie, I can't be superman,
I want chocolates, on Valentines day, like all the other girls, smiling and laughing,
See them stuck, wondering in a maze, careless, mindless, passing the days,
All I Want
Somebody find me, I want to be looked for, somebody look for me, I want to be found.
Eyes frozen, starring into space, just starring, deep into some place.
Little girls, little girls, when will you grow, little girls, little girls, you don't seem to know,
The Little Backroom
Wishes long forgotten, memories of pain, hopes and dreams, slashed and slain.
It's Not Pretend
Here I see you, walking out, tired of hearing all this “crap”, throwing out what was just said,
She's Never Been In Love
She's never been in love, this bored and jaded girl, never been held to touch, no one cares for her brunette curls.
Black And White Memories
Black and white memories that aren’t even mine but I feel like they are because I’ve known you forever.
I’d never love a rose, roses can’t kiss back, what a thing to love, that leaves up such slack?
Strangers in the same home,
is it really that?
With all the space between us,
Where is that heart?
That love a kid has to have,
to stay sane,
the love for a parent,
how am I supposed to find love,