In times of sickness,
Being idle like ant in the nest
All day long you have to rest
Food or water make you incense
Weakness in lots one obsess.
For hearing and seeing,
Like fog they are fainting
Your skin goes to pale
Your bone to lift as stone
Not wanting to shiver
Seems one has no liver
When the wind blows little
You feel like one in shuttle
Or just when in it's highest
Having the feeling of Everest
It's dreadful time to experience
From people you want caress
Their gorgeous hands forth
Their warm hands stretched
With accolades non-stopped.
Like magical known shrub
Your illness is near to halt.
Often all take you to right course.
One wonders joy and happiness
Working perfectly as shrub.
It's a therapy doctors can't snub
Joy and happiness given to patience
Effecting change to those in depress.
How worse can it be, to be ill
With cure up on the hill?
No lover around to come by
Nor passers to stop by
Death to such I see imminent
Hell or heaven have ghost sent.
We all need someone around,
In times of sickness to be at hand.
Taking our medications to recover
With shrubs our sickness we maneuver
Joy and happiness too, I discover.
...Onadele Dare
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