The Folly of Melancholy a poem by Sean G. Kilkelly

The folly of melancholy wraps around me,
Like the bandages of a mummy,
Hard to explain,
This mysterious pain,
A dark cloud eclipses,
My bright mood,
Like rain teaming down,
In the land of Eire,
By the way they say,
My ancestors came from there,
I remember listening to a band,
That originates not too far from there,
Mr. Daltrey said no one knows,
What it's like.
Yet I don't need to swing a mic,
To relate this unkindest folly,
That of melancholy,
Melancholy could make,
A trolley driver not so jolly,
The curls of a cute little girl,
Will start to unfurl,
All of a sudden,
My half-full cup,
Is now half-empty,
What a pity,
This folly of melancholy.
Is feeling this bad just a fad?
I went to my physician,
With this question,
And for a large pittance,
I got to explain my dilemma.
Doc you gotta help me,
Well, sonny I know things look cloudy,
So here's a pill,
It can make you rowdy,
So be careful.
Pop a pill,
Drink to silence the world's deafening shrillness,
Inhale a cigarette,
This song and dance,
Is not too pretty,
Nothing like a shiny baguette.
Oh bollocks!
I guess my only hope is a gale strong enough,
To move gigantic rocks,
Will soon come along and sweep away this folly known as melancholy.