I sit idle, in despair On my fallen, broken chair It’s quiet enough for the mind For the mind to wonder if it’s kind I’ve waited patient for something For the door to ring For the house to be cleaned To convince myself, I wasn’t mean The door has rung I nearly broke a lung, Working to get up God I looked dumb At the door was my Mom She made me feel calm My depression met a four-leaf clover And suddenly, it was gone.