Of all the things I fear the most,
This one tops the list.
No, it’s not thunder or ghosts
Or dark bottomless pits.
The very sight of it is menacing
And triggers me to wail,
Not to mention all the suffering
That afterwards prevails.
And it’s not like I can escape
When it is unleashed.
I know that I should be brave,
Yet I quiver like a leaf.
It takes less than a minute
For it to attack and leave,
And I’d rather run away from it,
Than face it tearfully.
It may be small and shimmery,
But it’s as painful as hell.
The singular cause of my misery
Is the doctor’s needle, my friends!
wordsofhope 