Frayed Grey Days

As icy rain falls and clouds collide

Visibility disappears in the frozen fog

Temperatures, now negative on the Farmer’s log….

Depression’s chill seeps deep inside


Deep blanketed coverings warm my body well

Darjeeling steeped to the third degree

A smile, priceless, when once so free

Nothing warms this mad winter spell


With bleak eyed, blank-walled stare

my IQ is suspended as I “rain on my own parade.”

Zombie like, a death walk through the shadow glade

and my armor of cheer, stripped bare.


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