Ambushed by a swarm of unseen bugs besieged by a gang of microbial thugs — or so the theory goes — it took five maybe six vicious savagely raspy days to rip the cold's grip from your throat and another runny nearly-as-nasty eight filled to spilling with coughing and hawking and blowing your raw clogged up nose to lift the thick fog that swallowed your noggin and staunch the bulk of mucus-filled flows.
Not sure I "like" this, as such! Very descriptive - get well soon.
I'm over it now ... down to a trickle and sniffle. Thanks!
Very visceral, I feel the pain! Well done. Meanwhile, we must all keep detoxing the jab junk that sheds to us from the quackcinated.
Think I wrote this one about ten years ago. I just went through what the poem describes. Seems to be a rite of winter...