I created a fairytale in my head,

Dreaming before I go to bed, 

Of Luddington, Michigan, right on the lake, 

I think of all the Epworth highlights in an ache, 

I long for that perfection,

Creating a story for myself; a false reflection?

The cedar shingle cottage is an encapsulation of summer, 

But this year it all seems like quite a bummer,

It’s the same as I recall, 

The vibrant blossoms should be a cure-all, 

I lay under the fragrant fruit tree,

And remember the problem is still me.  

My mind is in extreme distress, 

Really just one big abscess. 

To the sweet, promising air of july, 

I grievously whisper good-bye, 

Hundreds of miles I came, 

But, alas, my mind stays the same. 

No matter where I go, 

Says Emerson and Thoreau, 

I can only change from within, 

Regardless of all the marvelous places I have been. 

I really need to stop being dismayed,

When summering in Luddington, Michigan is not all that my optimism portrayed.