Sickness Sneaking Up On You

Hello Beautiful Thinkers,

I’m currently cursing the gods because I feel like crap and am probably going to call out sick from work tomorrow. (Technically later today.) I hate when I get sick. It’s like my whole body has turned on me. Write a poem about being sick. I’m not going to specify what type of sickness; I’ll leave that up to you. What’s the worst part about it for you?

Keep Dreaming Beautiful Thinkers,

The Boy In The Heart Shades

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