My Name is Junior

He is invisible. But he stands out in a crowd. No it's not the color of his skin but his words that astound. Its his rhythm. It's his rhyme, his understanding of time, it's the lines that he speaks other poets just can't compete with his story. Imploring are the words that he uses. Straightforward and ever deep, he educates not confuses. Pronunciation speaks volumes like novels on a shelf. Everyday he opens one to tell the world about himself. His name is Junior, that's JR, his name understand that he uses poetry to do what nothing else can. When he writes he knows his skin color to nobody matters. He knows that what he looks like won’t be any cause for laughter. Because when he writes he understands this one thing: to the words he is speaking everyone is listening. Poetry is his outlet, his expression of him, like to others would be painting a picture or speaking hymns. Poetry lets him tell all he feels and desires. All he wishes for, all he hopes, to what goals he aspires. Every time he touches pencil to a paper weights are lifted for now comes rushing out all the feelings he'd constricted. Now to any who will listen he shares the best that he can, afterwards feeling greater than anyone could understand. From the time he first heard “Balaenoptera” he was hooked, Joshua Bennett filling his body with warmth just like a cook. Look. At his hands shaking feverishly as he speaks. Rather listen to his voice growing louder ‘till he’ll reach the climax of his artwork of his emotional story and know that this young man lives and breathes to write poetry.