James, You’re dead!

25/03/2021

James you’re dead!

 

James you’re dead!

I’ve told your parents!

You’re dead.

The news that everyone fears,

Fills them full of dread,

I’m sorry sir but I believe you are dying.

How many times now.

Lifes up.

James,

You’re dead.

 

The thought plagues my very mind,

Everyday I wake up to the same organs sound and grind.

Never till we die,

The answers,

Will we find.

I'm cursed to the core. 

Since the age of 15,

Silent whispers,

Not heard until the dark of night and how they implore,

James,

You’re dead.

I’ve told you before!

 

Well to be honest I’m not dead.

I’m not yet six feet underground,

Although thinking about it? 

I may have lost a little of my mind,

A Part of my head.

But the truth is I’m dying,

Still hanging on by a thread.

See those whispers,

That creep out of the shadows are wrong,

James isn’t dead,

I’m still living on.

OK,

Maybe half or less as strong,

But I’m still here.

Singing my Ballard,

My death note song.

James,

You’re dead haunts me,

How much longer will it carry on?

 

Again those whispers,

That taunt me in my head.

Giving me snippets of information,

On why this James should be dead.

Cursed at the age of 15.

Cursed to live a life,

Of cancer and pain misery.

Of struggle and most definitely strife.

When will it end?

Till I cease to be alive?

Till I’m down on my knees,

Begging you why?

Why the earth’s been so cruel to me,

As I’m a decent guy.

But I still hear those Chinese whispers in the air.

James,

You’re dead,

As the last note of it,

Trails on by.

Are all of the whispers wrong,

Or is one of them right?

Will the reaper take me by day,

Or wreak havoc in the night.

 

For 20 hard fought years,

I’ve carried this burden,

This pain.

All I want to is feel real,

To Feel whole,

No more whispers of,

James,

You’re dead again,

Coming at me from each direction,

Corrupting my brain!

I just would love to live,

At least one normal day.

With no struggles or my cancers wains.

To be able to lift all 3 of my boys up,

Or just playing football with them,

And amazing memories to gain.

Although I know I make it up,

In more than a million ways.

Just one day,

James,

You’re dead,

Isn’t whispered or even said,

As my kind of music in my head now plays.

Wouldn’t that be a miracle,

A spectacle,

In every single which way!

Is there no one out there,

That could come to my aid?

Taking the whispers of,

James,

You’re dead,

And simply throw them all away.

Please,

I’m imploring you,

It’s not just for mine,

But also my loved ones sanity!

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