I'm Just Gunna Start Writing And See What Happens.

Taking one step to step to another crack,

Take a few more cause theres no point holding back,

Paper in pocket tells you all I have done,

Jobshop blues is a consolation prize not what I won,

Literally so broke that I can't get the bus,

Blew all the cash on draw layed down covered in dust,

Never thought that I'd be the one going through this,

Meaning of my hard work has summed up in a kiss,

Plentifull planned and well executed,

For the first time in a while I've got suited and booted.

Then that rush seems to quickly wear thin,

As she draws up her hand to scratch on her chin,

As her right arm comes up to support,

the left hand scratch of well balanced thought,

Maybe a call in a week or two,

Maybe never a call like the auburn haired girl that I knew,

Don't dwell on those feelings son,

Cause she's not coming back to put her hand on, 

Your hands on her hands like bricks of house,

Dilapidated and empty flaming with no water to douse,

All the fire within me raging ever so strong,

Creeping up from bed and sectioning the wrong,

But despite this plain filter between black and white,

I'm unable to make the decision and choose what is right,

I found a girl who makes the problems away,

But if she ever asked to see me I still don't know what I would say,

This is gettting faster matter of fact,

I gotta keep this work can't afford to get sacked,

I had to walk for best part hour and a half,

Just to hand in some paper and be ignored by the staff,

To turn around and walk straight back again,

The fleeting feet feeling starting to cause me pain,

A mild discomfort that seems to grow and grow,

Not the kind of fucker to put it as a status so everyone knows,

Why would I want a few hundred people to care,

About the fact I'm findin this life to be unfair,

Cause at the end of the day my story to write,

Theres no miraculous decision maker to hold me tight,

Each road that cross and bed I sleep in,

Changes the course of my life and what is happenin,

So to blame the unlucky or turn to sky,

And be the ungratefull that say they'd rather die,

Is to push the blame on down the line,

And some of us at the bottom have to go and face the fine,

Whilst dealing with our own fate and all it includes,

Theres not enough colours in the rainbow to suit all of my moods,

But I've never had to exactly go steal

To the point where kleptomania is all that I can feel,

Be a false truth to say I'd never gone pyro,

Pretty much burning money while theres some people on gyro,

Then reality looms as you start to grow,

All the people you burnt and burnt you, you no longer know,

Cause at the end of the day money makes the word go round,

Right now my world has stopped spinning and started to crash down,

But the bitter sweet irony just keeps me in check,

And if you've read this far I'll be done in a sec,

There was no point to story it's just things I had to say,

Cause each day it gets harder and tomorrows another day,

I wrote this whole thing in a continuous blur,

So sorry for any loss of punctuation or grammatical errors that occur,

Thank you for reading and I hope you do again,

And I'm sorry that some of couplets are all the same.

Robin