MOD poems  BY JAMES V. PATTERSON
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295 days
MOD poems
But Why?
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James V. Patterson's MOD poems is a compilation of 140 poems written during his 295 days of incarceration in the Orange County jail. Patterson's poems cover a wide range of topics such as everyday trivia, global warming, ethnic interactions and political views, but also offer personal revelations, which take us on a soul searching journey.
 
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GRIEF
Grief affects people in different ways - I understand.
In our underage drinking, parents conveniently forgot,
how they all played a hand.
There had been alcoholic gatherings
on three of the deceased victims' land.
Everybody knew what we did to have fun!
My shoulders are broad, 
but must I bare the shame of everyone?
Whatever - I guess, there is nothing that can now be done.
I never wanted my friends to be hurt, and certainly not to die!
You say, I have no remorse...
Then why do I lay in my bed and cry?
Please accept that the tragic crash was an accident.
Mental well-being was lost,
along with the lives of four friends by that single event.
I know I must change my ways,
I can no longer get fucked up in order to lament.
Why did this happen to us? Did we deserve it?
Of course not! Tragedy is never heaven-sent.
Lots of under age kids drink booze,
we just picked a card that made us lose.
Hopefully my friends have forgiven me,
because I cannot forgive myself.
You have no idea what it feels like! 
So don't tell me to get over it.
Memories will mess with my head until the day I die,
they won't go away like some big zit.
Unfortunately it was the hand we were dealt,
I wish the parents understood how I felt.
Yes, I drove and received 100% of the blame,
but peer-pressure to leave early for the game
is what ignited the flame.
That will forever send boiling blood through my veins.
ODE TO A BOVINE
Have you ever looked a plump bovine in the eye?
I swear they know it's almost time to die.
They know from the time they are born
they are the main course with a side of corn.
it is a sad life to lead, 
but viscerally they continue to feed.
The grass just tastes so good
they want to stop eating - if they only could.
The dream life is to be a milking cow,
but it's not possible they all know now.
The sad sight of McDonald's or Burger King
brings scores of cows together to lament and sing:
Why do we have to taste so sweet?
Is there not some other better meat?
Can't you eat deer, chicken, or pig?
Anything that does not moo!
Poor cow - if you only knew,
we love to eat all them too.
We tend to be more of a carnivorous race,
vegetables are good, but they have their place
next to a big juicy steak
sorry cow, you got a tough break.
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Jail Life Is No Picnic!
Don't Drink and Drive!