Sick

I have a Sick friend so sick poem for all the cared for and the carers.

You must be bored.
You need your uke.
And a toon to toot.
It would be cool if
a song came on a juke.

A dance or a prance in the sun
would be fun for you.
But you have to stay in bed all day
while your friend gets to write and play.
You have come down with red head.
A plight known to few.
Could be the cousin to pox,
a next of kin to measles.
Brother to mumps,
sister to violent spots.

Doctors have come to look at you
like you are a chimp in the zoo.
They have measured your head
and hummed and haaed over the tests.
They are perplexed and confuzzled
but they will see their way through
because they want to give you
your get out of jail free card.
Just coming around the corner
is patient number two.
She has a purple nose.

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