Hypochondriacs among us. We know they are there
Pondering their demise. Trapped in a night-mare!
Sickly and fragile, at death’s door they must knock
If they wake up tomorrow, it will be quite a shock!
THE END is always just a heartbeat away
Certain they’re living through their final day
Sickness and illness! They can’t help but feel sad
Not sure what they have, but they know that IT’S BAD!
Red patches on skin that feel scaly and dry
Eczema? Not likely. From this, you might die!
OH NO! It could not be more obvious to see
It’s the God Awful truth! They’ve got – LEPROSY!
Coughing, and hacking, and sneezing, and wheezing
Enjoying their suffering. To them, it’s quite pleasing
When they get a hot flash or have a cold chill
They know time is up. So they make out a will!
Stare at the ceiling. Insomnia! Long nights!
Grumpy and cranky. They demand the Last Rites!
Bodily functions. Fear of being a LEAKER!
A matter of time till they meet the grim reaper
Bacteria and viruses close in for the kill
It’s hope against hope for a “miracle” pill
Can a person survive when they’re covered in germs?
They’ve developed a FUNGUS! And now they have WORMS!
Hypochondriacs have aches that are fatal, no doubt
STIFF joints and LOOSE bowels! They get mad and they pout!
Something’s not right. There is something amiss
OH YUK! Now there’s OOZING! It seeps out with a HISS!
Feeling forlorn because the end is in sight
Their blood’s running cold. It must be FROSTBITE!
Can’t hang on much longer. Life is slipping away
NOOOOOOOO!!!
It’s a case of the SNIFFLES! All they need is nose spray!
At the end of the tunnel, they see a white light
Eternity beckons. Their future’s not bright
Seen their last sunrise. They know they can’t stay
But then a BIG FART makes the pain go away!
Run to the doctor at the drop of a hat
They’re blowing big chunks. It’s green and goes SPLAT!
Their toenails are grisly. They’re filled with despair
Now they’ve got a splinter! Say a prayer or just swear!
Each breath that they take could very well be their last
With a drizzle and dribble, they’re now fading fast!
There are sprinkles and tinkles and juicy secretions!
And that’s followed by a LOUD PLOP of EXCRETIONS!
* SORRY. TOO GROSS. *
Their minds fill with worry. Imagination on fire
Certain they’ll soon hear a heavenly choir
Though they live with their fears and all of their fright
Hypochondriacs in the end are not wrong –
THEY ARE RIGHT!
POETRY AT PLAY 