Window Pain Poem by Jon Yttri

When some are ill
They tell you all
All around the clock.
In fact, they even voice their pains
When visiting the clock.
"I wish that I was dead."
"So do I, "
Was his reply
Or that's what I recall.
Being sick is quite contagious, it is true.
When you persist in speaking of your ills
Others soon get sick of you.
I decided from now on
No more glum will they be seeing.
In place of speaking of my ills
I'll tell of my well-being.
However, I regret to say
The plan was not so grand
A conversation with a snob
Is never in demand.