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Poem

Mine was an awning,
I was not fawning,
crammed into my mind,
the space was just not available,
the flesh was raw and broken,
the nerves jingled every now and then,
sending painful telegrams,
blood frightened me,
as it oozed out timorously,
I did not know quite,
how to get this sewed up and good,
I had to down my hood,
my activities reduced to half,
doctor said it would be allright,
he gave me pills,
spherical and cylinderical,
green,red,and yellow,
I took them in,
felt respite set in,
but awning yawned every now and then,
I limped the leg it was in,
and cursed the day,
I rode the puny kid bike of my son,
to fall down and have this gash,
nature has its own buddy in our body,
chemicals and antibiotics worked,
silently inside,
as I grimaced less,
the skin folded and dried,
blood was banned,
it whitened,
and now covered in a parchy layer,
soon that too fell off like snake skin,
leaving a sewed up and pink patch,
pink darned with sunlight,
to healthy skin color,
as skin matched the other skin,
now I needed to grimace no more,
what was grim,
was back again trim!

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