As we are gripped in the usual winter flu epidemic this poem, from our Open Mic' in November seems appropriate and hopefully will bring a smile to the reader's face.

THE MAN THAT NEVER COMPLAINS

My ears are really throbbing and my chest is feeling tight

My head is splitting apart and i'm really off me bite

I feel i'm coming down with a ferocious Manflu

That would floor the very best of us but i'm not complaining to you

I don't take potions and pills OR sympathy as I suffer

For the man that suffers in silence cannot be called a bluffer

No I'm not complaining of the pains and aches I have

Or the congested chest and phlegm,

you know the sick green gunge that refuses

To be washed down the drain.

I'm keeping it to myself, the obvious symptoms that pertain

Like the loss of manly strength while in my bed I remain

i'll not be bothering my GP, nor even receptionists at the clinic

Though I'm suffering, there's worse of than me. I'm dammed if I'll be called a cynic

And as the world 'casts a cold eye' while my temperature soars and wanes

Will that Horseman pass me by'?

The man that NEVER complains.

M.Kelly