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Weebles Wobble On The Edge
The depression hits sometimes like a wall when I fall asleep driving
Coming from nowhere, I crawl from the wreckage of thought and attempt to keep smiling
It's a good mask, it doesn't crack as easily as you might think it would
I laugh so often to cover the pain buried deep in the sanctum of the misunderstood
It's a misunderstanding because I intend it to be, I want to be elusive
Because confession is selfish, transposing weight, and I don't want to be intrusive
I keep it on my shoulders like Atlas, but the world I hold is transparent
Actually, it's in the open, but, like a shamed homeless man, it's diffident
And the public is indifferent, so like so many others I keep quiet in the face of adversity
Especially when it comes from within... so I shake hands, give hugs and read the underlying apathy
Friends are hard to come by, but acquaintances proliferate like roaches with ginseng
I want to shed skin for a moment to get rid of these frayed nerves and not feel a thing
I've been looking over the edge for so long, the jump doesn't seem quite as frightening
All I have to do is lean forward and strike the bottom like a bolt of vengeful lightening
I still wake up every morning and weigh the pros versus the cons of just letting go
The pro list is growing shorter, so how much longer I'll still linger, I don't rightly know
-David "Dingo" Bleecher