where’s all the love for me?
it’s been swept away in the breeze
stuck here without a thing
but i’ll keep on hoping
lost in my eyes from me
is all the love i’ve seen
it is hard to believe
that i still have nothing
searching for some peace
through the demons that keep me troubled
it’s too hard i can’t compete
i must lie here in the rubble
my heart is cold
i am 100 years old
will you please
just help me
it’s time for me to go
i am no longer well at home
i feel my soul is sold
i have nothing to behold
Early poetry from James. From the poetry collection Pariah Bound: The Lonesome Poetry.
