my life is going down
all the way to the ground
it hurts sometimes to see
all the people who are happy
why was i deprived
of the greater things in life
why have i heard only lies
from the people i lived beside
and i sit here as i cry
wondering when i might die
is it fate that will not let me fly
why can’t i sore so high
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
James Pack 