inside the eyes of the passerby
i am forsaken and pushed aside
i attempt to be friendly, “Sorry!”
he continues walking so harshly
was i seen by this man gone insane
it seems all i am is cellophane
i ask anyone, “How is your day?”
all i receive is that intense gaze
from this Nation that i do so praise
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
James Pack 