People often say that the reason for art is to make this lonely world a little less so.
Summers are always lonely.
The sun gleams down in its bright, intimidating gaze
No! Don't expect me to have fun
I'm not being called to do any of the sort
I'll open the shade, and put out a rug
Just for a touch of color
But that means nothing anymore. No to me.
Not in my ever-hazing shades of dullness
All paling--impaling everything I live for
The stupid things I value
In a meaningless collage

But oh! You said I am loved.
Why don't you sample this world I give you now
And we'll see how long your selfless chivalry can trek on.

*I'm sorry.