Horror Author
left behind with a sense of disaster
trapped in a tub covered up by plaster
sounds of the wind seem to have subsided
a light which would cause one to be blinded
penetrates a hole in the wreckage
this small ray of light gives one the message
that the terrible event is over
a great rush of relief comes over her
crawling from the heap of devastation
now begins the life of reconstruction
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
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.
a crisp warm day under the Richmond Sky
i sit on a bench and wonder why
why the world changes as it does
why there isn’t more peace and love
all beautiful days
encompassed by rage
no hope for anyone
buried under the sun
the dreams of the voiceless
surrounded by darkness
the cries in the violence
heard only in silence
the cold and dark day of the Richmond Sky
drives everyone away and inside
the wonderful day that once was
shatters at the death of a dove
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
James Pack 