I sat up in bed
With a cold in my head
And stinging in fingers and toes
I’d been asleep for a week
Feeling sick – couldn’t speak
And constantly blowing my nose
My breath was a bit off
And I had a bad cough
And I struggled to shower and eat
I’d been at a loss –
I could not give a toss
Why I couldn’t (or wouldn’t) get back on my feet
All I could do was feel badly
And ugly and sadly
Struggling to walk to the kitchen and back
But Mum said I must try
To get better – but why
The intention to get well I lack
I hadn’t enjoyed time in bed
With a cold in my head
And stinging in fingers and toes
I wondered; what can I do next
To better reflect
My cheerful nature – oh, watch as it grows
See, I was too happy
To spend time feeling badly
And ugly and sadly and such
I had a spring in my step
I was not done with yet
I loved the sunshine and outdoors too much
So I ran and I played
And gambolled and raved
At the slippery slope and the swing
With my friends together
My voice back – so much better
We would stumble and rumble and sing.
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Published by sensualism
I love writing - poetry mainly, but the odd thought or story may find its way to the page as prose. I'd love to contribute to poetry and writing groups near my home by the sea but the dreaded clock seems to beat me most times. I do happen to contribute to https://cosmofunnel.com, a poetry website with 'panache'. Check it out for a different take on things.
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