If you save up your sneezes all inside your head
And never let go of diseases to spread
You'll one day be full like a clogged-up machine
And shoot skywards on thick trails of rocket-fuel green.
Sneeze into a hankie
There's no need to thank me.
Spent nine months dreaming on my back. Opened up new horizons, if only horizontal.
Woke up disabled, with a Blue Badge and bed hair.
Walk with a limp and a stick.
Cue the double entendré and the stick.
Saving money on shoes.
Spending it on thoughts.
Overdrawn at the creative bank.
Loan facility disabled.
The irony!
Stronger through weakness.
Weaker through slogans.
New journeys to be taken.
Pop along.
I'm off my back.
I'm back.
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