Circus Streets

A poem describing how I feel to be depressed

This world is like a circus.
Over here we have our clowns,
Over there the lion tamers,
And,oh, over there
Are the dare devils.
I'm one of the few tight rope walkers.
I walk on the streets
Like I have to balance on this wire
And beneath my feet
There is no net
To catch me when, finally,
I just lose it.
I'll lose my balance
And this wire is sanity
And below is the plummeting drop
To insanity
And once I drop
I'll be surrounded by darkness.
My sadness constantly follows me
Like a shadow,
But no one ever pays attention
To a shadow.
So my depression goes unnoticed
Except by me
'Cause I enjoy looking at the shadow
That stretches and contorts
To something so much larger than me
Even though it is me.
Every now and then
A person comes along
Who notices this shadow
And they try to be my savior
By shining a light above me
So the shadow disappears
And is no longer seen
Trailing behind me.
But once I lose my balance,
Once I lose it all,
The darkness that consumes
This chasm
Will consume me too,
'Cause in the dark
You can see no shadows,
But instead
It's like they surround you
And they take over you.
When I lose my balance,
I don't want to feel dead,
So all I can hope
Is someone notices my absence
And throws down a rope.
...
Yeah, all I can do is hope.