This sonnet took up too much time to write.
It doesn't help that I am sick and ill.
Drowned in water and OJ. What a sight!
"Being sick" is not synonymous with "thrill".
No meter, rhyme, or structure is found here.
Coughing is not a type of poetry.
Sneezing in crowds creates panic and fear.
"Under the weather?" Not my cup of tea.
Symphony of sickness, coughs, and sneezes
Drinking water, faulty immune system.
Oh, how I hate crawling with diseases.
Is this a defeated scrawny kingdom?
No. Here comes a wave of warm chicken soup
and another torrent of orange juice.
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