Wednesday, December 22, 2010

a poem called flu

holding back a sniffle or two
believing there is
a cure for you

i wipe my nose dry
only to see
you have come
again for me

i tried to calm myself
to breathe in
breathe out
i try to relax
left no room
for doubt
that you'd soon go away
you'd soon let me be
you'd leave me to sleep
peacefully and free

but then you stayed
like an incessant prick
i am feeling worst
i am feeling sick

and so am left with no choice
but to
sneeze you out
bad virus called

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