Can a Mince Pie Save Me
I'm teetering on the edge of a cliff
The scales are swaying uncontrollably
My gloom taints the horizon as I fall
Hang on, that's Grandma at the door with some mince pies
How can I sway so uncontrollably when I must live for those whom live for me?
How can I hang my head so low when my Grandma holds her head so high through strife and defeat?
Have a cup of tea, have a mince pie lovely seeing you, see you again,
Plunged back into darkness, head so low again there really is no hope again.
Copyright © Tom Evans | Year Posted 2016
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