The Depressed 1

Clover

I walk on the edge of a sharp knife

 

As I navigate my way through life

 

I live in a world were no one cares

 

No one sees me but everyone stares

 

Into the fire right out of the pan

 

Burned up heart no one understands

 

Start to go over but pull myself back

 

Right over the edge into a body sack

 

When it is all said and done and over

 

I know it would feel like rolling in clover