Who will be there to pick me up

Who’ll be there to pick me up when I fall,

This is a question that the anxious call,

When it all feels too much to bear,

When happiness only brings despair,

When the mind races and the heart beats panicked pain,

And the body is held a hostage by its very own brain,

There’s nobody to pick me up when I fall,

So, from under the weight of things, it will be me who’ll crawl,

But not until heartache runs its painful course,

And anxiety has drunk her fill, without remorse.