I have a cold

I don't.

I have a cold.

I feel like mold.

I feel sort of old.

Medicine sucks.


It tastes like old muck.

Mom gives me soup.

I look at the noodle and imagine it as a fruit loop.

I eat up a scoop.

Mom looks at me.

I see.

I finally feel healthy.

The End

0 comments about this poem Feed