Shall I compare thee to a summer day?
Though art more sweaty and intemperate.
Rough winds that you so rarely hold at bay,
My lease on life too short for such a date.
Always too hot, too cold, in clothing that confines,
My hopes of happiness substantially dimmed;
And watching as my sanity declines,
And I feel day, by day, like I’ve been rimmed;
But thy infernal summer shall not fade,
Nor is there any hope things will improve,
Nor shall death take you, drag you to his shade,
As Time goes on, I find I have no move
So long as I can breathe, my eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this is forced on me.
Author notes: https://allpoetry.com/contest/2785016-parody
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