They’ll knock at your private doors,
In the moments you’re morose.
You’ll want to let them in,
Have them do their creative thing.
Seeping into your mind’s darkest depths,
They’ll knit pieces of insecurity.
Having quite an expertise,
They’ll make sure, to them you pay heed.
Little bits of doubt and remorse,
Will be spun into endless steams of thought.
Awake in bed, at 3am,
You’ll be sailing down their path.
Such are these little creatures,
That creep into our fine minds,
These elves of depression, pity and lows,
Who narrate to us our negatives and cloud our souls.
Amidst the shade, amidst the rain,
Protect your esteem, don’t drain.
Sulk, let the gloom go by,
Stay strong, stay wild, Child.