Amy Fifita

Amy Fifita Poems

Crying of blood not of tears,
Just let it out.
Blood is spilt, but no one’s dead,
This is your cry.

Is capital punishment justice or is it revenge?
This is the question that I want to defend.
Is it really justice if you have to kill someone?
Or is the killing of a being just for your fun?

Many children are ignorant
To the pain in the world.
Some know pain but most don't
still continuing to laugh and play.

It's not like I'm asking you the one millionth number in pi,
I just need you to answer my simple question: Why?
Why did you leave me alone in the dark?
Why did you leave my mum with your mark?


Cry it out,
Don't blleed it out
Dont slash at your flesh.
But I'm too late,

If you work in capital punishment what does that make you?
If you kill a murderer I think that’s murder too.
If you hurt some one would you expect it to be returned?
But from your point of view that hurt would have been earned.

My whole life stood at my feet,
And i just stomped on it;
Squishing all my hopes, my dreams,
Destroying what i had done good for.

Don't you trust me,
Don't you dare.
You'll soon see,
That you shouldn't have cared.

Death's fortress made of ash
Cemented by blood
Floats from captured spirits
Unforgiving for mistakes

Sharply slicing through my skin,
Waiting for blood to begin.
Overpowered by my past,
How will this depression last?

Like a seagull flying high,
As I hear your distant cry.
Not of pain but of suggestion,
Wait for me is the question.

Little Edmund Kemper, an innocent little boy,
Was locked in a basement with his sisters’ toys.
Poor Blameless Ed, what was he to do?
He ripped those dolls apart as his anger grew.

Sometimes silence is not peace,
Sometimes it’s anger at the least.
Unsure of whether you should use your voice,
And still silence is your choice.

The stress and pain of every ones life,
Causes wounds of painful strife.
Give it time is what they say,
But it will never go away.

I look in my own eyes,
What do I see?
A person I don’t know staring back at me.
What have I become?

'Rippled skin splurging blood,
Oh, the want to see that flood.
Cold skin against my warm mouth,
I want control but not to help.

All your words scream through my head,
Daunting wishes, you want me dead.
And yet I do not hear a guilty plea,
And still you want the death of me.

Torn and broken, shattered in pieces,
You weren’t there, my wounds deepen.
Self inflicted, pain manifestation,
My life’s a rainbow, devoured in darkness.

It was just a specof hope,
My last and final taste
And now I'll have to cope
With this sadness making haste.

Don’t you think its funny how one little thing can change your life,
From being perfect and happy to being in trouble and strife.
It seems to attack you when you’re at your worst and overflows your life like you’re cursed.
Nothing seems to help it keeps getting worse.

Amy Fifita Biography

Hey I'm Amy. I enjoy to write poems and read them. I don't know how many poems I've actually written, but I don't think it matters. Poetry is a thing I do because I enjoy it, it can be a story, belief or emotion that's why I like it so much. They say the eyes are a pathway to the soul, well if so then my eyes are my poems. I like being different from the rest not in my poems but in the way i dress, act... and yet all that really is is a trend. It's not that i want to be a loner, i have many friends, it's just that i like to stick out as the weird one. Wierd is good(or atleast i like to think so) . I'm also the person who likes imperfect things, the one who hates up themselves snobs or in other words poeple of the same status(high school students in my case) as ourselves acting superior to us.anyway bye for now)

The Best Poem Of Amy Fifita

Blood-Stained Tears

Crying of blood not of tears,
Just let it out.
Blood is spilt, but no one’s dead,
This is your cry.
Pain releasing, anger lost,
You have now expressed,
The day ends.

Dreamless nights, dream-full nights,
It doesn’t change life’s ways.
Nights of nightmares, others none,
It’s just like life.
Tosses and turns, peaceful slumbers,
You’ll soon wake up,
Another day awakens.

The day is fresh, but will soon stale,
As does life’s happiness.
Maybe not for you, but for someone,
The reason for your outlook.
Totally logical, but also illogical,
Life has its miracles, but also tragedies,
Life will go on.

Amy Fifita Comments

Rania Salah 10 December 2015

Hi, my name is Rania, and I am writing a poem anthology themed blood. I came across a couple of your poems, and they are perfect for what i'm looking for! ! And the professor asks that i relate the poetry I include to the actual life of the poet. So if it is not too much to ask, i would love a little background for the poems about blood and self harm. Please this would help me so much, i love your poems...

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