Sometimes the sun is bright. For me it’s grey
although my forehead’s burning damp with sweat.
I’m sad so many days that I forget
storm, hail or drizzle will seem bright some day
when some switch in my head decides to flick.
Work helps. I get things done when I am sad
though playing solitaire – at which I’m bad –
happens a lot and makes me vaguely sick
and cheerfulness erupts when on the phone.
People amuse me. Trying to amuse
them back will often help me with these blues
better than trying to fix it on my own.
Love also helps – it’s such a structured pain.
That’s why I fall there, time and time again.