Sickness
I'm stuck in bed,
my body wracked with pain,
My good health a distant memory.
I see now how much I took it for granted,
my joints so weak,
my fever soaring like the desert's sun.
I crave a sweet dessert,
but my tongue is numb,
This sickness a curse that I long to outlast.
Copyright © Pius Seda | Year Posted 2023
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