Friday, 4 March 2016

Poetry for Man Flu or Worse

Do you have pale and blotchy skin?
And your teeth fall out when you grin
Is there noxious fluids oozing, running out of your head
And your eyes have turned a dark shade of red
Locked in the toilet, sat all day
Creating terrible smells that make folk run away
As you cough and splutter like some phantom beast
Your hands and feet slimy and smelling of yeast
Your temperature high, you have a delirious mind
Hair now resembling old bacon rind
Your dinner tasting of rancid cuttlefish
Which once you finish you return back to its dish (YUCK)
Do your friends wear masks and will not come in
Wearing rubber gloves to read your notes,
before burning them in the bin
Does your doctor say you just have man flu
The way that women doctors do
Or is the undertaker smiling
or at least trying
On his way
To ensure you are not left lying 
On the floor all day.
To scoop you up
And take you
Which can only mean

The End.


  1. Blimey. I hope you are not suffering Rob.
    If you are - get well.
    If not - that's a dark mind you have there.

  2. Good grief, Rob, you've described me.

    1. I think we can say you are a handsome chap Mr G so maybe that mirror on the wall is lying.

  3. Do you know what the real myth about man flu is? It's that it actually exists.
    Hope all is well with you Mr Z.

    1. I am fine. . . I dont have man flu but I will be heading off for a scan in a couple of weeks as my body is slightly faulty.