Frost Poem by Nat Z. Punx

midwestern winter
comes creepin' in
it's insidious and subtle
like your next thoughtless sin
drink my coffee
wrap my hand 'round the cup
with my feeble arthritic grip
my mind begs me to struggle
while my spirit starts to slip
it's another half pass
turnin' over the sun
i'm praying that it's over
though it's not begun
it's another tip and turn
till it's comes around again
till i feel alive
and shed this creeping pain