deepundergroundpoetry.com
No one calls
When I wake to a dreary day, I know already it will be the same. I walk downstairs and hunt all day for a job that pays a decent wage. I send out send out cvs and applications, to every office in this whole damned nation
But alas, no one calls.
I search the papers I ring up reed but they tell me there is no job for me. So I raid my penny jar in the hope of affording even a chocolate bar. I call in favours from old friends.
But alas, another dead end.
Why did I do that useless degree? I say hating myself so violently.
The writing is how I find my release, the only way I get some peace.
But alas, no one calls.
I search the papers I ring up reed but they tell me there is no job for me. So I raid my penny jar in the hope of affording even a chocolate bar. I call in favours from old friends.
But alas, another dead end.
Why did I do that useless degree? I say hating myself so violently.
The writing is how I find my release, the only way I get some peace.
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