My Name
My Name
My hands are magic wands with power innate to create empires never before acquired
Taking away my notebook and pen is like taking sweets from children
Only the latter I would rather recommend
Visions blur and dissolve as I hear my conscience call
Some crawl miniature along the mind’s walls yet I stall
Cause my imagination looms so tall
Almost too bright for the speed at which I write
All that seems right involves script under light
Regardless of fame ascribed to my paper or its stains
Worth equates just the same
Either way lines shall contain
My name.
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