Snotty sneezing, throaty wheezing, I'm coughing up a storm,
I'm stuck in bed with a whirling head, as is, with colds, the norm.
But on top of the pile of tissues and slime, my cold is just the first
most noticeable ailment, of a pitiful list, but certainly not the worst.
My back is red, and legs are too, since yesterday was warm and blue
so my skin is hot, and stinging a lot more strong and quick than I ever thought
a day at the lake and weeding my lot would have or should have ever brought.
Add in cramps from my monthly curse, which has symptoms that are much too diverse
and frankly, for me, a bit too perverse to discuss on a blog in rambling verse.
Sick and burned and ovulating, you can see why the day is blah and frustrating.
I'm ready to sleep, to forget all my pain. My brain can't sustain or maintain such a drain.
But first I'll just publish my rhyming complain
t.
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