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.