Here is something I wrote on Christmas Eve 2021:
'Twas the night before Christmas
But still in the house
There was somebody stirring
And groaning quite loud
As she tossed and she turned
And she rolled to her side,
Her body was aching,
So she opened her eyes
Her nose was congested
As it had been for weeks
And then she discovered
That she needed to pee
So she threw off the covers,
And with a great moan
She rose from her bed,
And made haste for the throne.
With each step her knees buckled,
But still she carried on,
And before she quite knew it,
She’d arrived at the john.
When she’d finished her business
And she’d washed her hands well,
She went back to her bed,
Though she still felt like Hell.
As she laid on the mattress,
Tried to breathe through her nose,
It was then she discovered
That it needed a blow
So she rose from her bed,
Sounding worse than before,
And she took up a tissue,
And made sounds like a boar
After trying to clear it
For what felt like forever
She started to wonder
If it was a useless endeavor
So she turned back around
But was met with great pain
As her knee struck the corner
Of her bed’s metal frame
Still, she climbed back in bed,
Nestled in for the night,
But despite her best efforts,
She just still felt like shite.
So rather than trying
To get warm in her bed,
She decided to write
The poem you have just read
So to close it all off,
'Fore I return to my plight,
Merry Christmas to all
And to all a good night.