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.