I ain't got me no woman's affection
And I ain't got no Pfizer or Moderna injection
All I got me is time for unhappy reflection
Ever since I got my coronavirus infection
The things I'm feeling they ain't hard to convey
I'm off work for ten days, but it ain't no holiday
I could use some groceries but the Health Department says stay
Cause I got the virus that killed John Horton Conway
I want to go out and run like a stag
But I cough and I sneeze and I sniffle and gag
I'm just about ready to throw in the white flag
But it's covered in green snot ever since I got the plague
There is but one thing of which I'm now desirous
That we overcome this disease which lately has tried us
We'll resurrect in glory like the mythical Osiris
And cure the whole world of the novel coronavirus
A friend has helpfully pointed out that I've been mispronouncing plague all my life. I can't imagine how that happened. Maybe I can keep doing it and gradually convert everyone to my way so that the third stanza of my poem works.
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