Diagnosis
They ask me why i'm grouchy,
Why i'm at the end of my tether;
Am i stressed out, maybe? Or ill?
Somewhat under the weather?
You know, that change of season thing;
A cough, a touch of 'flu?
Nah, it's just too many cigarettes
And a bad case of you.
February 2005
Um. This started out as a response to Khuto's desire to see more light verse on this blog, but didn't quit end up that way. Ah well, drop by here for something more, er, frothy.
Why i'm at the end of my tether;
Am i stressed out, maybe? Or ill?
Somewhat under the weather?
You know, that change of season thing;
A cough, a touch of 'flu?
Nah, it's just too many cigarettes
And a bad case of you.
February 2005
Um. This started out as a response to Khuto's desire to see more light verse on this blog, but didn't quit end up that way. Ah well, drop by here for something more, er, frothy.
Labels: poetry
Selected by zigzackly |
17:53 |
3 Comments:
Fine build-up, perfect last line!
Hehe. I'd say you concluded it well!
For a cold there's therapy
But what can you do for me?
:) Lovely poem
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