medijaster

Today has been pretty rubbish, between revising (exam tomorrow), walking aimlessly around my chain store town and not being able to string two chords together its sucked pretty badly, so I decided to listen to Joy Division and write to reflect my mood, the results, a soon to be full blown headache and a happy cheery poem;

I am the vile biproduct, of a consumerist society gone mad
I can't feel happiness or joy, only rage, despair, guilt and sad

I befoul the grey streets, the soulless urban hell hole of home
A stain on conformist purity, I am the same as this syndrome

Nothing left to live for, no more thoughts to provoke
Everything's in darkness now, I can't see through the smoke

Can't stay in education, can't get regular employment
Can't find a place of fulfillment, can't find any enjoyment
Can't find that certain someone, can't find out what love meant
Can't change what I've misspent, can't find any enjoyment

Everything is emptiness, friends are a distant distraction
I feel cold and alone, I'm a part of nobody's faction

Talk of giving up and giving in, moving away from anything
A bitter pill to swallow, cyanide with a hint of strychnine

The past is all meaningless, just a record of repeated dull events
The world is the human's whore, how much more shall we rape for science

Can't see any kind of future, can't face or prevent
Can't find a place of fulfillment, can't find any enjoyment
Can't find that certain someone, can't find out what love meant
Can't change what I've misspent, can't find any enjoyment