Amidst The Mist Poem by Wolf the poet

The morning's so chilly
Can't even get a call to Billy
For my hands are frozen
My eyes blurred seeing everything in a dozen


I hear raindrops on my roof
But sleep still grips my soul
Evident in my sluggish eyes
Which definately tell no lies


My body lays horizontally
Tired both physically and mentally
Can't even manage to go to the rally
Nor do a simple mathematical tally


I await the sunshine
To shine its ray so fine
So that one day i dine
With the most expensive wine