Acrostic 33. You’re killing me!

You’re everywhere: Outside – inside, Up – down, here – there, Roasting my mind. Even nights are full of you. ‘Keep cool’ sounds like a mock: I’m sick of feeling blue Living in this endless shock. Lashing down like a hail In a poor garden, you make Nothing green: all’s dusty-grey. Gosh! I’m like a well-baked cake Made without any liquid: Eat it if you aren’t too picky.