My Cold

I’m really fed up of
this cold that I’ve got,
of sniffing and sneezing
and swallowing snot,
Lemsips and Night Nurse
I’ve had all of those,
I still have the headaches
sore throat and blocked nose,
Lockets and Tunes
I’ve sucked lots of them,
it makes a nice change
to chew fruit flavoured phlegm,
I spat something out
like a lime Opal fruit,
it slid down the toilet
like a slimy green newt,
after the flushing and flushing
it still clung to the pot,
there’s a lot to be said
of this cold that I’ve got.

(Martin Nicholson has asserted his authorial Right to this poem)

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