days speed by with the quickness of time
many weeks pass but it’s just now tomorrow
it’s been so long since i’ve seen or heard from you
a few hours at the most; at the least just a few
time creeps by with the patience of death
but my patience is dwindling faster than the rest
left behind again it seems
or do i not see what is right in front of me
i search for a sign that i cannot see
i’ve lost all concept of time; i’m stuck here with me
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
James Pack 