To
Survive
The
Flu
Or
Some
Horrid
Ague,
I haven’t
A
Clue.
It’s
The
Tum
That
Feels
Bum,
Or
My
Joints
Or
My
Head,
And
Exhausted,
I’m
Forced
To
Recline
In
My
Bed,
Or
Slump
Like
A
Lump
Watching
Daytime
TV.
Woe,
Pity
Me,
There’s
Much
To
Be
Done,
But
For
Now,
I reckon
The
Virus
Has
Won.