Four Leaf Clovers

My face is close to the ground. Even the relatively short grass seems like a jungle from this new perspective. I scamper along the green with my finger tips, in front of my eyes, searching for four leaf clovers, undiscovered, that will just not show themselves to me. I'll find my own luck, if I'm going to get any at all. I inspect a few hopefuls but they all turn up to be of the insignificant, three-leaved variety. I give up pretty easily on my quest. Unmotivated. Defeated. Obviously I will have to find other ways to find such luck. Do I even believe in luck? I'm not sure what I believe. I don't believe in religion anymore, that phase has come and gone without any impact what-so-ever. Soul mates are too good to be true. I've realised that actually, the only person I can truely rely on is myself, and honestly, I'm sure that I can't even do that most of the time. Even belief in happiness seems to escape me now. Did I ever really feel it? I want to feel something different... or perhaps I yearn for something I've felt before, but is being pulled away. I want to feel like a child again. That stupid and embarrassing child I actually miss. I actually envy her, although I know more than anyone, even she wasn't completely happy. I remember too well the fears and thoughts she had. She was different to everyone else, and different to me now. How did I go from that to this? How am I thinking these thoughts and acting in this manner? I know how it all feels. I still wish for the fairies in the bottom of the garden. I wish for the certain feeling of naivety that I only realised were lost when it was too late. I wish to regain the thoughts of innocence that have been tainted and altered. Weren't we all that little bit happier in the unknown? Bored. Frustrated. I use nothing but a twig and my finger nails to attack a bare batch in the soil. I lose a decade off my age and the sun warms my arms. Pointless. I scratch away at the surface tirelessly, but don't seem to get anywhere. And all I get for my troubles is dirty hands. Tell me, is this what it's always going to be like?