
If the trees
Could speak to
You and me
What would they
Say to us –
“We’re alive”
Or perhaps
“Don’t eat us,”
But I think
They’ll tell us
To grow up
And to shine
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

If the trees
Could speak to
You and me
What would they
Say to us –
“We’re alive”
Or perhaps
“Don’t eat us,”
But I think
They’ll tell us
To grow up
And to shine
From the poetry collection Cats, Coffee, Catharsis.

the shady, pale eyes of Death are upon you
it is too late there is nothing you can do
the prickly feeling on the back of your neck
He comes for you first then goes after the rest
no one will ever escape His icy hand
after you are taken, your life will be judged
if you’re in good graces you’ll move up above
but for most of you it’s the Pit you shall go
the Seven Deadly Sins you’ve all committed
your death only means over-time for Hades
Gluttony, Pride, Envy, Rage, Sloth, Greed, and Lust
these are all the things you base your life off of
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.

so many things you couldn’t achieve
so many things you couldn’t receive
all of these things you cannot believe
all of these things you cannot conceive
looking upon you, they all deceive
they all lie to you; you are so naive
how can someone be so naive
how could they possibly achieve
you are the one they do deceive
torment is all that you receive
is this all too much to conceive
is there anything you believe
not much left to believe
you cannot be so naive
all the wrongs you must conceive
you must learn what to achieve
the knowledge you must receive
so that they cannot deceive
they feel they must deceive
to make you all believe
these lies you all receive
so many are naive
there’s nothing to achieve
when you cannot conceive
you never conceived
you’re always deceived
you cannot achieve
you cannot believe
you are so naive
torment you receive
all you receive
that you conceive
you’re too naive
they all deceive
you can’t believe
nothing achieved
anything received can deceive
all you conceive you can’t believe
you are naive; you can’t achieve
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.