A Poem By David Baillie
I have a bad cold and it’s ruined my prose
I have loads of snot, oozing out of my nose
I hope this wee poem will keep you amused
I wrote it while sneezing but feeling enthused
I’ll try to melt all the gunk from my head
By sitting in a sauna and reading instead
After that I’ll go see a film, or perhaps even two
And then buy some popcorn, which I am hoping to chew
It appears that my illness has also ruined my rhyme
This poem, I fear, is hardly sublime
I hope you’ll forgive me this feeble mistake
And offer me sympathy, free things and cake
Wednesday, December 14, 2005
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