A poem

Cold, Cold, go away.
Tired of complaining
every day.

Head hurts
and nose awash.
Why do you torment me,
dreaded Virus?

Immune System,
where have you gone?
Sending me to bad poetry.
Or the dogs.

***

Clearly other people get a bit illness fixated from time to time.

Interesting. This is soap. (from this Etsy seller)



Or maybe I need this 'friendly antibiotic'? (from these people)



Actually I think I just need some echinacea (from this artist)