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Sick

By John I. Blair

Iím the well one,
The one who gives, not needs,
Known by my deeds.

But now Iím sick.
The facts fly in my face:
Iíve lost the case.

The days drag on
With not much help or hope
From docs and dope.

I need to seek
Where love has been my boon
And get there soon.

©2002 John I. Blair


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