Sick
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"I cannot go
to school today,"
Said little Peggy
Ann McKay.
"I have the
measles and the mumps,
A gash, a rash
and purple bumps.
My mouth is wet,
my throat is dry,
I'm going blind
in my right eye.
My tonsils are as
big as rocks,
I've counted
sixteen chicken pox
And there's one
more--that's seventeen,
And don't you
think my face looks green?
My leg is cut--my
eyes are blue--
It might be
instamatic flu.
I cough and sneeze
and gasp and choke,
I'm sure that my
left leg is broke--
My hip hurts when
I move my chin,
My belly button's
caving in,
My back is
wrenched, my ankle's sprained,
My 'pendix pains
each time it rains.
My nose is cold,
my toes are numb.
I have a sliver
in my thumb.
My neck is stiff,
my voice is weak,
I hardly whisper
when I speak.
My tongue is
filling up my mouth,
I think my hair
is falling out.
My elbow's bent,
my spine ain't straight,
My temperature is
one-o-eight.
My brain is
shrunk, I cannot hear,
There is a hole
inside my ear.
I have a
hangnail, and my heart is--what?
What's that?
What's that you say?
You say today is.
. .Saturday?
G'bye, I'm going
out to play!"
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By Shel Silverstein
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jueves, 15 de noviembre de 2012
Where the Sidewalk Ends: Sick
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