The sound of sobs

Wakes me again

Without a doubt

Signifying my old friend

They come any hour

Of day or night

Caring very little

If they’re a welcome sight

Bringing sore eyes

A cough, headache, and groan

Why can’t they just

Leave us all alone?

I’ve told them before,

I’ll tell them again

With visitors like this

I’d rather not have friends

But they laugh with a trill

Then sashay about

Not the slightest disturbed

At my watery, weak pout

They stay for a week,

Sometimes for three or four

Then leave like they came

Without a knock on the door.