You wake up and it’s bleak,
The great grey clouds loom overhead,
Dirt stains underneath your finger nails,
Bags laden with stress rest under your eyes,
A complexion rivalling the sky outside,
And no gentle breeze brushing your tepid colouring.
You’re left with very few options,
Hope or despair,
Acceptance or refusal,
Resignation or Inspiration,
Defeat or victory,
You can’t remember how exactly you got down there,
Maybe you didn’t see the pitfall,
Fell straight in,
Maybe you were always kind of in it,
This time your foothold,
That wonderful safe thing failed you,
Maybe you eyed a next step,
A place to move to,
Somewhere to put your hands and feet,
And it was deceptive,
It doesn’t matter,
All that matters is you try,
All that matters is you get out,
You can lie down in the cold room,
A casket of dry emotions,
Or you can open the blinds,
Attempt to breath in that fresh air,
You can wave the white flag,
Or you can tear it into pieces,
Using it to form a rope,
And claw your way up out of the pit,
It’s up to you.