It's Saturday night, with same dreary theme;
I'm coughing up brown and orange and green.
My forehead is summer, my lungs Halloween,
and everything hurts in between.
Maybe if I just lie down on the floor...
Maybe if I lean back against the door...
Maybe if I have a hot cup of tea...
Maybe I won't die quite as miserably.
Come Sunday morning, they'll find me propped
against some door frame near the cold meds I dropped.
They'll see empty bottles and claim I OD'd,
but it's really the flu that killed me.
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Submission Name: Sick To Death
