Remember the days
when you dreaded
a scratch at the back
of your throat --
harbinger of a cough
that you thought
would get you rushed off
to quarantine.
Or, at least, get a footlong swab
shoved through your nasal cavity.
Best case, it would put all eyes upon you,
as the public wondered whether
you were their Typhoid Mary --
(Except Mary was asymptomatic,
and - clearly - you were not.)
We all learned that the one cough
that one can never suppress
is the one that you desperately
wish to.
That cough won't be silenced.
Share on Facebook, Twitter, Email, etc.
Related
I like this poem. Been there, done that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks
LikeLike
Pingback: The Cough