STANZA #1

I am James Wilson
Born from the cataclysmic collision
of the incision of sun rays against vast seas
Causing a divine division for my entrance
I wonder how many times I rhyme to forecast
Visions assigned to the gifted
Uplifting morsels of knowledge left in the pan
Of a man who is continuously sifting
I hear the clashing verbiage against a wall
Infinitely tall too strong for any man to build
I see steel blockage toppling efforts ever present
I want a drink as I thirst for the antidote to the curse
That has been perfected though never rehearsed
I am James Wilson

STANZA #2

I pretend to engrave poems into bottles
Though hollow they swallow my thoughts
I feel a feeling of relief when my pink and purple prose
Float out into the unknown
I touch sand between my toes and clouds float low
So slow that the rain drops
Drop
Drop
stop
I worry that my words will not make it
That the bottles will drown and the water will surrounded
Suffocating as they are unable to breathe
And just float down
I cry from this imagery flooding my mind
As I watch the drops turn solid and my head is volleyed
I am buried under the sands of time
I am James Wilson

STANZA #3

I understand that God exists and writes my list
I say He will always provide
I dream that my talent will balance out the life that I have missed
I try to let the bad times subside
I hope to always have a adjective in my heart and word to provide
I am James Wilson