being sick

being sick by phil burns

Click here to hear the words read aloud:

being sick

it isn’t funny being sick in the autumn
it isn’t funny being sick at any time
it isn’t fun when you suspect the bits and pieces you eject
are as close as you can get to writing rhyme

it isn’t funny when you stare into the mirror
and realise you don’t recognise your own description
when your look at life is wry and you wish that you were high
but the only drugs you have are on prescription

it isn’t funny when you’re confined to barracks
when you’re stir crazy and going off your head
you think of running wild but in fact you’re reconciled
the only place you’re going is back to bed

it isn’t funny when you should be getting better
but this nonsense drags on yet another week
your doctor’s running out of drugs to combat these wretched bugs
you don’t have a paddle and you’re still far up the creek

it isn’t funny when you waken in the morning
although it’s better than the alternative they say
but you splutter and you cough and think oh please buzz off
now you’ve got to suffer through another ghastly day

it isn’t funny when you discover that it’s Saturday
the thought of writing poetry makes you weep
you are completely uninspired and you really are dog tired
so you shrug roll over and go back to sleep

This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

6 Responses to being sick

  1. Corine Gouy says:

    Tu prends des mots, tu les mélanges et tu les transformes en un magnifique poème. Merci Monsieur ❣


  2. Dale says:

    Thought fabulously written, this is utterly wretched.
    So hope you will feel better, soon!


  3. the illustration matches the feeling of the piece perfectly


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