Life is a lingering disease.
I've grown accustomed to despair.
Don't confuse me, silly breeze,
Running swift fingers through my hair.
[Note: I wrote a much longer poem, based on that same moment--out for a walk, feeling the world sucked, then feeling mildly irritated with the breeze's trying to console me--but feeling consoled, nonetheless. This shorter version seems to say it best.]
http://deanotations.blogspot.com (short poems)
http://dearreader08.blogspot.com (essays and longer poems)
New book (Deanotations, Volume 1) available at http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/deanotations-volume-one/4649669