Hypochondriac

This is a cute little poem written by my mother, Ella Mae Faulk, in 1982 at the age of 70 years.  It caught my attention today (August 3, 2008) when I was going thru some of her writings.  She was a wonderful mother and wife and proclaimed by many to be an "angel on this earth".  I hope you get a smile from her sense of humor...Burl

'Hypochondriac'

If you ask me how I am

You sure won't wonder long

I'll tell you right away

That I'm not very strong

Last night I didn't sleep

Not a single wink

My heart was acting up

My pulse was up I think

My head aches all the time

It comes in rather handy

To avoid an unpleasant job

A headache is a dandy

I'm always quite allergic

To everything that's good

To plants and grass and kittens

And even to my food

My friends are tired of hearing

About my every pain

All my operations, I tell them once

And then I tell them again

So, you really think I'm kidding

You think it's in my head?

Well, let me tell you this my friend

You'll be sorry when I'm dead.

Referring to no one but myself.

By the way;  Want to hear about my operations?

Written by Ella Mae Faulk

November, 1982

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