Monday, January 14, 2008

The monster


Every time I think it's dead,
Morning sickness rears it's head

I really wouldn't mind a bit,
Except I'm TIRED of being sick

I was told that when I reached 3 months,
The sickness would disappear at once.

But they were wrong, so very wrong,
and now I sit here all day long

Wondering what I'll accidentally do, smell, or eat
That will make the monster and I once again meet.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

I had to call you right away to see if you wrote this poem yourself and you did! You could have a new career awaiting you after your engineering days are over :)

Abby said...

Haha, thanks mom! I'm glad you liked it I must say that I thought it was pretty inspired for something written a little after 7 am.... :)