It’s 2am,

there’s a pounding in your head,

you seek out the Nyquil,

and off back to bed.

When you sleep,

you dream,

of a never-ending tissue-box,

and the ability to breathe in through your nose.

8:30am,

off to work!

Eyes so bleary,

you struggle seeing clearly.

On the subway they stare and glare,

grimace at every breath you take,

there’s a cure at Walgreens,

but you didn’t get a flu shot.

At lunch time you,

pop in two more cough drops,

and cough and sneeze your way,

through the stacks of files that lay,

on your kleenex covered desk.

3:30 rolls on by,

you hope your boss strolls on by,

knocks, and says,

“Gee Charlie,

you look as if,

you’re feeling poorly,

take the rest of the day off,

get some rest,

and come on back,

feeling your best.”

But he never appears,

and 5:30 nears,

you’re exhausted but still,

your co-workers will not be thrilled,

if they start feeling ill too.