None Of Us Likes It

A poem

Everyone seems mad today, or else they want to cry
I spent the last few hours trying to find the reasons why
It could just be the weather, which is bad and getting worse
Maybe it’s the pollen that the trees all now disperse
And yes, there’s the condition to which no one is immune — 
The dread at being held hostage to the whims of a buffoon
You’re sad because you’re jerked around with very little say
Your knowledge of your powerlessness is causing your dismay
In fact, there’s only one thing that is under your control
So please get off the Internet, it’s poisoning your soul