Humors Poem by Glen Martin Fitch

When I tell jokes 
I want roars at the end.
I learn them,  
trade them. 
Humor has a code.
The biggest laugh 
comes when a solemn friend
lets drop a bomb,  
amazed we all explode.
I'm healthy and 
it's seldom I get ill.
When weak
I get confused,  
dismayed and wilt.
The ailing learn their cure and 
flex their will.
But I,  when sick,  
to call in sick,  
 face guilt.
I sense your feelings 
better than my own.
It's foremost in my nature 
to be kind.
To give away my power 
I am prone or else 
I pay for harshness 
in my mind.
Forewarned,  
although compassion is my rule
I'm ugly,  
shocking,  brutal 
when I'm cruel.