I've got me the pinkeye.
My sciatica hurts.
I've got some sort of rash,
and a touch of the squirts.
I've contracted a hangnail.
My fungus came back.
I'm allergic to soap,
and there's a wart in my crack.
I can't find my glasses.
There's a rock in my shoe.
I've got halitosis,
and a skin tag or two.
My wallet got stolen.
My wife threw me out.
I can't do the tango,
it riles up my gout.
But I've learned to adapt.
I've not given up hope.
Since my teeth all fell out,
I just floss with a rope.
I'm not one to complain,
and I'm not one to whine.
So to answer your question;
I'm doing just fine.
Superbly funny and satirical as well Great write, and against all odds you still are doing good
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks very much Eruc Shelman. I appreciate your kind remarks. 😀