Bad Medicine Poem by Ima Ryma

From the moment you and I met
A fever in me did take hold.
Such a weakness in me I'd get,
Getting more hot, more you got cold.
I know you gave me the brush off,
But deep inside I felt so sure
That just pretending when you'd scoff,
For me you had no magic cure.
But any dose of you indeed,
No matter how bitter a pill,
Is prescription to fill my need,
And hope that you will keep me ill.

So lovesick over you I be.
You're such bad medicine for me.