I wrote :
My chest sings the song of a heavily weighted gong sitting firmly on a symphonic soprano
Lying supine on the floor with vaulted ceilings and seats galore of a highly acclaimed opera.
There she belts out concertos at very high C.
With the accompaniment of string sniffling and percussion sneeze.
Most it be so cold for my chest and my nose seem to compete for the most recognition.
But my chest speeds to best as flem rattles my chest as I cough it gets my full attention.
How high can you get ? How low can you go? This infernal wheeze is demanding.
For breathing my friends is a fight to the end . And all my energy leaves me just - panting.
Copyright ©2013 Norell-Lee Ramsay.
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