hammers are driving into my head
pins prick me all over
my legs are like molten steel
eyes pop out of my face
in this disrupted state
no love can exist, no flowers can grow
when bile rises all I want is to throw
spleen mingling with liver
dances in my innards
even if you sing a song for me
I wouldn't know it is you
If you really want to help
get me some chicken soup
"not that it would make any dfference who brings it"
So what do you think of the poem?
I have caught the flu. I am on leave from work. My reading/writing threshold has come down. I can't sit for long either. So I will make my rounds to your blogs as and when I can. Now all I do is sleep and drink lots of fluids. And read poetry in between!