"Your Husband is on Line Two"

Better this than death, I guess,
But it's a pretty iffy call. My throat
Is sore. I have a cough. My head
Is clogged, and everywhere I ache.
I may go back to bed. I doubt
That I'll expire soon, but, if I do,
Don't feel too guilty telling me
I shouldn't whine. I know your
Work must come before ensuring
I survive.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 72 times
Written on 2014-06-26 at 15:51

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