Poems

This has absolutely nothing to do with music, just an insight into how I feel today:


Fungus

I think I have the fungus, I think I have the germs.

The swoshiness of the stomach that makes me want to squirm.

The pain behind my jaw, the cloudy of my brain,

Things that are not cured by Excedrin Migraine.

The soreness of my muscles, the tickle in my throat,

I need some strong drugs and a doctor's note.

Excuse me from work, let me go play,

Upon my couch in my pajamas while I curse the man in the cube next to me for getting me sick away!

The End

I enjoy writing poems when I feel like shit, I feel that it lightens the mood and gives you a small chuckle through the pain, much like watching hilarious YouTube videos and repeating the one liners for weeks on end. My roommates version most likely ends with "while I curse Tippi for getting me sick away!"...sorry about that.  However, I did have a grand time with her yesterday while we both played sick and compared our symptoms. I am starting to turn around in the sickly department, mild cough and sore throat, yet she is hauled up in bed cursing my name.  I, stupidly, trucked into work and have been banished to the joyful 5 x 5 cube since people think I have the plague and back into other offices when I walk into the hall.  Hope you manage to stay away from the fungus this winter...because it sucks.

Tippi