Winter's Lathargic Touch

Silence my feelings, and emotions
Lethargic is how I am today...
I can't explain how tired I am...
Mystique gold fountains spew diamonds into the aero-space
and little lion men cry for their mothers...
Looks like I'm going to anaphorum again.
Little metal trinkets based on iron shelves
sold for pounds instead of dollars...
British gems and lovely little girls hug their dolls.
Monsters of the pub hide inside until it is dusk.
wherever is the sun?
maybe you're just a vampire...
is that why you're so pale?
sorry that I make no sense
it's just that my brain is fried...
like eggs...
in a skillet...
no, I do not care about grammar today...
English metaphors pile in buckets while the math majors have their hay day
and the lonely school teacher sits in their car and waits for the heater to turn on.
The principal takes his family to the ice cream store,
and the bus drivers take home busloads of kids...
I walk across the icy pavement
to my rented home...
where I sit and enjoy not being in a hell-hole.
I can be free...
Oh, wonderful, seven days until I can open my gifts.
nice, opulent boxes filled with expensive cheer.
how wonderful this time of the year is.
this is the time of rhyme...
but I do not feel like rhyming today...
I can't poem...
and you can tell...
I don't feel very well,
but a poem I must write.
I cannot simply go without writing a poem while being inspired.
Why am I commenting within a poem?
oh right, it's anaphorum...I see.
Good, then let me have my cake and eat it.