Bedbound
I have pain in my back and water on my knee
and not one single friend has expressed sympathy!
I’ve called every doctor in town to explain
my aches and my ills, but it’s all been in vain.
Not one can discover what it is that ails me.
Each remedy that I’ve sought out simply fails me.
The sun hurts my eyes and the rain brings depression.
It hurts when I walk but bed rest brings compression
that freezes my spine so I’m forced to just lie here,
seeking assistance from all who walk by here.
And although I’ve no appetite, still I must eat,
so there’s one request that I have to repeat.
If you’re going to town, could you help me out, please,
and bring me a pizza? Sausage. Extra cheese.
Because I’m so thin, the doctor prescribes beer.
and since there’s a Quik Stop that’s really quite near,
could you pick up a six-pack, some ice cream and chips?
For I simply must add some flesh to my hips.
My bones are protruding so far that they hurt
from the weight of the sheets and the thinnest night shirt.
I’m under the weather, headachy and thin.
I cannot convey the bad shape that I’m in.
My offspring don’t care and my spouse says I’m making it
hard to stay with me because I’m just faking it.
I have to complain because I must confess it
is impossible when one is ill to repress it.
Although all my friends say I’ve bats in my attic,
these ills you can’t see are not psychosomatic!
Prompts today are under the weather, offspring, flush, repress and stay.
What an interesting poetic tale. I hope those ills are psychosomatic they’ll be much easier to treat!
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ADVICE FROM ANOTHER NAUGHTY OLD FART
From the symptoms you gave, now let me see
It sounds like a bad case of hypochondria to me
as for the water on the knee back pain in the kidney
a diuretic will put that water where it’s supposed to be.
As for the sun in your eyes it happens to the masses
so most of the younger folks simply wear sun glasses.
Friends not paying enough attention to your depression
just do not have enough time to listen to sad confessions.
So you can’t walk or sit, can’t stand or even lye.
Well you must at least do one of these by and by,
there is nothing more you can do, surely you will die
leaving the only thing left for you is to cry or try to fly.
Didn’t your mother warn you, as a kid, long ago
what happens to the ladies, every girl should know
when those hot spells, & cold spells will come and go
that age of depression, suspicion, and indigestion though .
Your mate misunderstanding why you are so hyper
is turning you from that sweet little thing into a sniper.
who craves ice cream pickles beer even being a griper.
Being smart, he will keep quiet or he must pay the piper~!
This my dear is my opinion I fear, the best I can do
and I hope my help will develop a better life for you
look around, talk to friends then find that they hurt too
so sit and talk or take a walk hypochondriacs are so blue~!.
SAM
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Well, my goodness, I hope that this was fiction!!! If not….I may need to come your way with good Italian soup!
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I wouldn’t turn down the soup even though it is fiction.
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Now that made my day, Judy. Thanks for the chortle.
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Love making your day, Tracy.
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Excellent!
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This is so good. There are much worse things to have in your attic than those flying wonders.
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And the older you get, the more you realize that!
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Hilarious!
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I think you will just have to be put down
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Hah!!!! Derrick, your comment was the highlight of my day.
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🙂
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