James was tall,
Bit lanky,
But you know,
Wore size nine sneakers,
Had a mum and a dad,
But none of that stopped him from going mad.
He was proper,
Said hello, please and thank you,
No one could've labeled him as bad.
His mum was a nurse,
Gentle with everyone,
She read the word
And taught young james to love everyone
He lived in the scriptures just as she did,
He loved socializing but never related to anyone.
His dad was old
That's what he thought
Grumpy sometimes
But that was part of being old
He'd picture himself
Just like him,
Grey hair,
Shivelled skin,
And with lots of love,
Tucked in between.
He was normal
Just like every teen,
Hated school
But also had a dream.
He knew more than he'd lived,
Hoped to see more than he'd seen
But that didn't change how he'd been.
You see behind all this
Was a hidden being.
Lost and longing,
Hanging by a thread,
metaphorically speaking,
That is until he was actually dead.
But at least it a was a rope,
Not the previously mentioned thread.
