Attempts at Happiness

On Reading a Pointless Article

Rather shrewd to myself, I had left the

computer quite estranged, deranged, upset, 

because they told me what they've always said. 

Lonely, in my room, I made my own bed. 

It talked of the people, the politicians, 

same hopes, characters, destinies all 

in the same picture, the same story, every day

and I spent life minutes reading what they say. 

Life as bitter, short, brutish, cold, oft-lost

is best with every minute precious spent

and yet my thoughts get cast away, fading

I am after ten minutes spent, regret

of a long life tossed aside in sick ways

Tide rolls out with the sands from the bay, 

a fog cast over.