We all go down
That wicked spiral
Face pointed down
Tears streaking the walkway
But eventually you see
A light in the midst
A hand of a friend
Of a loved one
You have one of two choices
You can grab that hand
Be pulled from the rank dark
Recesses of your mind
It may not be heaven
But it's at least above ground
Or, you can ignore that hand
Push it aside
Block out the light
And walk on
Going downward
Until you reach the bottom
The bottom of
Your Well of Sorrow