Poetry of Life Poet Amanda Jane Brooks

Poetry of Life Poet

Sands of Time / Santa Evita / Julie / His Wife

My name is Amanda Jane Brooks. T I have been writing poems since I was twelve, and stories since I was seven. My idol is Emily Bronte.

Sands Of Time
For Emily Bronte

My name is Emily Bronte
I died in 1848
I should have lived longer
I should have had my way
But my life was over
The world was done with my day
My life was taken from among
For only the good die young.

Only the good die young
That is why I am dead
I died when my writing career had just begun
I died before I was able to fall in love and be wed
But, in my eternity my career took a turn
Through my two younger sisters
I found a place with every reader
And I know what I could earn.

I am the only one of Maria Bronte's children with a middle name
I know that I have died when I was young
But, The Lord is not to blame.
For he is to thank for all that he gave me
He is to warship
He is for you see
My work
And let you learn from me.

Only the good die young
But, they are not poor
For I am with the rest in Heaven
Waiting for more.
Don't believe that I have banished
Or that I don't care
Because last time that you were reading Wurthering Heights and heard a voice
It was me whispering to you, for I am always there.

Therefore, only The Good die young,
Though The bad pay their price
I am not in Heaven because I was literate
I am here because I was sad, yet, nice,
Only The Good die young
It's true, but no crime
Though I am in Heaven instead of Earths
My footprints have been left in the Sands of time.
(Dedicated to the most literate person ever on Gods earth, Emily Jane Bronte.)

Santa Evita

My name is Eva Duarte
I am moving to Buenos Aires with a lot of scares
I am trying to get a part in a play
And, amend my life by living my dares.
Austin Malaga is the man that I think is finding me my fame
But, he is not to stay the same.
I think now that I need to be an actress by relying on somebody else
But, when I am twenty-six I will see that I can do it all by myself.
I am going to get a part in the new movie with Eva Franco
But, after that I will learn to have faith in the Eva that I know.
Magaldi isn't a good man for me
It will now take me awhile for me to be able to see
But, Peron will be my man no matter how old
He is the one that will make me bliss.
He will take me in out of the cold,
I can feel the world with just one kiss.
I only, now, care about my fortune and fame
I believe that it comes from above
But, I will find out later that they are just the same
That the only thing that was given to me was love.
One day I will be happy with Peron
I will have the respect of Buenos Aires
I will have Argentina in my own
I will have accomplished more than just "La Senora De Perez"
I will smile to see that I have found the answer
But, afterwards I will die after my battle of cancer.
I will be remembered for years after I die
On May 7, I will be remembered high
But, for now I am just a teenager scared and alone
In years from now I will be a spirit that is there, but not shown.
Eva Maria Duarte De Peron
May 7, 1919 - July 26 1952
R.I.P

Julie

Julie had a dream one night that someone had brooking in.
It was a woman that looked everything like Julie, only she wasn't as thin.
Julie said, "Who are you and why are you here?"
She Replied, "My name's Jewel, and I wont hurt you, so don't drear."
Julie looked at Jewel with a look that questioned,
"I am the woman that you talk so bad about to your friend,
The one that you hurt until you cry for me,
The one that you bash and bash until you are not able to see,
How a woman like me could live life to her end,"
Said Jewel once and again.
"I have not an idea what you are talking about," Julie said, Mad.
"I am not the kind of a woman that would talk that bad.
My life is a Hell, and my feelings are sad,
My house is full of trash, and so messed,
And, what's worse is with drugs I am obsessed."
Jewel smiled at Julie and then told her with a smile,
"You are wrong with what you are saying.
You are wrong to make that denial.
You spend all your time praying,
That God will march me down an isle of undying happiness.
With a tear in your eye,
You wish for me to be happy,
But you still want me to die."
Julie was so mad that someone would tell her all of that,
"I Wouldn't do a thing that you just said," she spat.
"I have no idea who you are or what you are getting too,
But, for some reason I fell as if I know you."
"You know me more that you know this very room,
You knew that I would do something here very soon.
You wanted me to die but in a way you didn't.
And, you cannot try to deny it so just admit it."
"Tell me now, please tell me true?
Who are you and what do you plane to do?"
"I plan to do nothing," Jewel confessed.
"And, the truth is that I am you."
Julie woke up in the morning with a happy feeling,
Now she would stop counseling what was true,
That she needed to love her self to feel her blist
Everyone in the world does, and so do you.

His Wife

It's February and I'm all alone,
I can't find my wife she is not here with me,
Valentine's Day is spent without a trace of her in my home,
The kids think that she is coming home, but they just don't see,
Mary has gone to Heaven and that is where she will always be.

I was aghast to find that she had been killed last year,
my heart did a leap and my body was in complete fear,
I thought about telling my kids as though it were something good,
But, they know that nobody will take the place of her Motherhood.

The murderer of her goes on prosperously,
He left no mark of himself to show where he might be,
But, who ever he is, he's the one that the cops suspect the lastly,
The murderer doesn't seem to cognizee what this has done to my kids and me.

Mary and I had four of our own,
kids that we raised together alone.
Now they are only raised by one person that will never go,
But, when it comes to Mary's murderer it seems there is something else they
know,
Maybe that is why they hate me so.

I am in essence not a good person,
I made Mary miserable throughout all of our married life,
Whether with affliction or hatred,
I am forever a man who killed his wife.

By Amanda Jane Brooks

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