The Spring of Discontent

It must be the season again
Which is why everything is so irritating
It's perhaps the imminent onset of furious summer
Or the fading away of my own spring
That makes the odium turn to rage
The listlessness to rancour
When will I make peace with the world
When will I not suffer from seasonal moods
When will the spring of discontent dry up
Turn to summer with the glorious sun of self-actualization