Swine Flu-A Poem by Sam Sheehan-Based on Twas The Night Before Christmas

Twas the night before Monday, a time for football,
We were sitting round the TV, from shortest to tall
Our picks had been made through Yahoo sports with great care
With hopes that Clinton Portis would perform better than fair.

The last thing we wanted was to go sleep in our beds,
With the promise of concussions to the players heads.
With Joe in his t-shirt and I in my cap,
I suddenly realized I felt like crap.

While they talked of which linesman was obviously fatter,
I ran to my bathroom to find out what was the matter.
I searched myself in the mirror for maybe a rash,
Maybe the hooker wasn't worth the No-STD cash.

I was shivering like a was standing outside in snow,
and I felt really out of it like I had done some blow.
As i realized it probably wasn't alchohol or beer,
I realized it may be CNN's greatest fear.

Since both Mike and I were feeling quite sick.
We went to the hospital and got there quite quick
They sat us in the waiting room and called us by name,
We waited 2 hours, which was really quite lame.

We got in the ER with other people who needed fixin'.
They put in rooms where our germs wouldn't be mixin'.
Mike, my good friend, was the first one to fall.
He was told he had swine flu by the doctor on call.

"While it's unlikely swine flu will cause you to die,
It will cause enough discomfort to make you cry"
When they told me what I has was also swine flu
I said "I heard you talking, I already knew"

We both had privately hoped there was a goof.
Hospitals diagnose swine flu to pay for their roof.
But alas it was true, there was nothing to be found,
Just sit in our rooms, recover, and mostly sit around

Now outside of our house, we aren't allowed to set foot,
We must wait for our friends to bring us some fruit.
Now I feel like someone who was addicted to smack,
who's going through withdrawal after they quit the crack.

The last thing I am now is jolly, happy, or merry.
Though, my Robutissin looks like it's made out cherry.
My stomach is tied up like a giant Christmas bow.
After eating my food that is brought to me by Joe.

Everything is achy including my teeth,
My skin feels like it's crawling, way down underneath.
Aside from the sore skin and my aching belly,
I'm denied contact with those whom I am friendly.

I suppose this is self pity I place on myself,
For the evil disease that fucked over my health.
So as I lay here in my disease ridden bed.
My I leave these thoughts instilled in your head.

Rhyming a poem to another is really hard work,
and swine flu sucks so don't spread it you jerk.
As I think to myself every time I blow my nose,
Swine flu fucks you up, from your ears to your toes.

As I'm here in quarantine, listening to the train station's whistles,
I'll poke you on facebook, then message you if that fizzles.
I leave you with this, before another sleepless night,
Taylor's video rocked, Kanye's not right.