Posted into secret shoebox on Tuesday, April 11, 2006...
ill man leaps from the roof tops
whincing in pain with every movement.
with a shuddering cringe he crouches on
the edge of a wall and waits to pounce.
all criminals fear his virulent wrath.
with a mere cough he renders evil doers
bed ridden with violent colds and at his
command a thousand bugs jump ship to
infect a thug.
STAND NOT IN HIS WAY YE SINNERS
for this man shall surely floor thee and
make thee poorly.
a hacking cough at the back of a
shadow's throat signals his presence -
and then he is gone into the night like
the welcome end to a fever.
a master of minor maladies, ill man has
the power to overwhelm with the crushing
impact of a gale force cough or a tidal
hose of sneeze.
a few people in the world have the power to beat him
- but none of them want to.
the cost would be too great.
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