Cold Poem

COLD POEM

Here I sit with a really bad cold
Swarthed in blankets, just like the old
Supping a lemsip, warm in my hand
After this, unsure if I’ll stand

Warm, fruity liquid down my throat it goes
I’m really gonna have to blow my nose
To clear my sinus’ and aching head
Then I can go back to sleep, back to bed

It’s three in the morning, I feel like hell
Two days already – I just want to be well
Surrounded by people coughing all the time
I knew it was me, next in line

Sooner or later I knew I’d get a cold
Be swarthed in blankets, just like the old.


Scorpio Lady 2006