The Malady

Snooky on Nov 15, 2009

Misery.

The Malady

All week long I’ve been fighting a malady

that’s been trying to get the best of me.

I have felt like just staying in the bed

But I chose to stay up on my feet instead

I’ve taken Nyquil and done the soup thing

Still waiting for the relief they promised to bring

My chest is hurting and my back is killing me

Flirting with calling the Doctor

My finger seems to be.

In an attempt to take my mind off this malady

I try to watch a little TV

but I just end up drifting in and out

Of this persistent misery.

To the powder room I have worn a path

More suffering from this maladies wrath

I’ll keep trying this and trying that

Looking for that elusive relief.

Until then I’ll keep stumbling around

And moaning these words “good grief”

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Comments (3)

TroostAvenue on Nov 15, 2009
Perhaps you are suffering from a catharsis. Poetry, they say can be cathartic. I understand that out there in Quandaro they just use good old caster oil maybe, if you’re lucky, mushed up in your ho made ice cream. Yum, yum.
Frances Lawrence on Nov 15, 2009
Well written. Oh dear, it sounds bad. I think your poem will bring back memories of flu for most of us.
diamondpoet on Nov 16, 2009
I had the exact same symptoms last week and did not recover until sunday. I just really did not feel like doing anything but lay in the bed.

Hi there!