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

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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

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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.

Picture by: favim.com