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Sparrow Junk Feb 2018
I let it all out into the corner
I shout every word out at me
Can't take it any farther
Need a dead end to let it be

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave

This was written with my head on the table
Once again I'm feeling unstable
I found inspiration away from the public
Where I hide like a suspect

Words from on high to continue
Through the anger rising
There's always another issue
It's all so demoralising

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave

The things I do to make it through the day
Is more than I am willing to say
Worker #23 reporting for duty
I will break in the newbie

Another ten years spent here
I keep talking my life away
There's nothing more to endear
It will end never or today

Now I can't
Be spending my days this way
So I must
Find a new way to get paid
Now I can't
Be simply walking away
But I trust
I won't be kept like a slave
A piece about trying to quit the grueling menial job and do what you want to do
Sparrow Junk Feb 2018
I felt justified in my actions at the time
But you gave a look telling I crossed a line
From then on things haven't been the same
You give me looks of such fiery disdain

I remember stumbling about in the dark
I woke up alone in lover's park
You weren't there and I probably should've cared
But given my actions I thought it was fair

This love isn't what it was
I know, I know I'm the cause
But dear you know it's only because
No one taught me better

This love is on ice and it's melting away
Every day the anger boils to rage
There was a time we could fix up the cracks
But now we don't know if we want to go back

We go to the bar and put people at unease
It's never too long before they start to leave
We bicker and shout hang our ***** laundry out
Not even sure what we're arguing about

This love's not going to last
Clearly we dived deep too fast
But so much time has already passed
That we don't know how to end

My dear I would love to leave you
But I can't stay alone
And I'm sorry about what you found
That time you looked at my phone
From then we spiralled down
Arguing late on the road paved
with our hate before the car became
our coffin in the water's grave

Now we're left together in our own private hell
But what happens apart we never could tell
So we stay with the anger, stay with the hate
In the hope that it will eventually abate

This love is all we have left
My dear I did my very best
But getting to feel your breath
Keeps me from a worse fate
Sparrow Junk Sep 2017
Coming back
Coming back without a grandstand
Coming back from the hinterland
Coming back as an old hand

I had cast myself aside
to focus on new graces
Instead placing myself
in permanent stasis

I had all these grand plans
and each one fell through
So now I stumble on back
down a crumbling avenue

Never knew which dream to follow
Never knew which pill to swallow
Now my words they ring so hollow
Now my passions no longer wallow

Coming back
Coming back to a humble home
Coming back to a field to roam
Coming back to find one's own

The sofa begins to mold
itself around my spine
As I lay and acting out
like it was all of mine

Not wanting to address
my failures or success
Claiming that it was all
just part of the process

Never knew what I should do
Never knew how to carry through
Now it happens out the blue
Now I need a new point of view

Coming back
Coming back to build myself
Coming back to repair my health
Coming back with the cards I dealt

Never knew I had it in me
Never knew if I could be happy
Now I skip the hyperbole
Now I give up emotional syncope

Coming back
Coming back to sing my song
Coming back from what was wrong
Coming back to live lifelong
I had taken a few weeks off due to a holiday, moving house and starting a new job, so of course imagined a story of someone coming home from failing their dream.
Sparrow Junk Aug 2017
The radio's not what it used to be
With its wealth based in virtuality
Calling out to the youthful dream
Which is never quite as it seems

The radio no longer plays what's mine
As my popular taste has faded in time
I stopped singing along to the tunes
They stopped making my afternoons

The radio is nothing but melodic static
I'm aware that sounds a little dramatic
But I can't relate to these digital trends
No more playlists, I want show host friends

The radio's batteries died long ago
I'll replace them one day I suppose
When the songs I like will play
As part of a classic aural wave
The expectations of radio have shifted so much, especially in the face of the playlist trend which someone I know claims has ruined his working commute. Tried to capture that feeling in this piece
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
I spot the small things
The giraffe balloon
Floating by the window
of my bedroom
Where I brood on the day

I spot the small things
The souped up ride
Tearing past the street
The go faster stripes
breaking my concentration

I spot the small things
The washer of hotels
cleaning the distant windows
along the parallels
As I struggle to work

I spot the small things
The dead pixel on screen
Making the image
slightly unseen
On your update feed

I spot the small things
The name on your message
With a heart on the end
That day was a lesson
Not to blindly trust

I spot the small things
The couple in the corner
Kissing away secretly
I slowly mourn her
You're truly not mine

I spot the small things
The robin on the wall
Serving to remind
To be above it all
and be more than I am
I've been working on this one for a while, had the idea of how I seem to spot things in fleeting moments and wanted to tie in a story around it of a person's debating their suspicions of their lover. Think it works.
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
I feel my words haven't rung true from the start
Because crucially
The reality
is I was never that good to begin with

I only wanted to make some light out of this dark
But the emotion is
A bloatedness
Of my own self-inflated ego and pride

I could never call this as an attempt at art
Nor should others
There are greater wonders
By those who can truly inspire

But still, I try to play my own small part
In this scene
Against philistines
To fail is never a reason to retire
The main thing for anyone trying to make their way in a creative pursuit is to not let failure or pride be a barrier to keep trying. Take inspiration from others and try to make it your own.
Sparrow Junk Jul 2017
The cracked screen is staring at me
Each line a show of mistakes
The black mirror has ruptured
And my armour inside breaks

From a centre, each hairline starts
As the fractures spill further out
They can't be brought back in
As my core fills with doubt

I've turned it into a metaphor
It's my own head to blame
But it still serves a reminder
Of my struggles, of my shame

The marks match my arms
The dent is in my head
I know I'll move past this
But I still feel like ****

I stare at the cracked screen
I will find the solution
I have dealt with worse before
I can be better than my delusion
Broke my phone, ended up being a reflection of other things
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