It feels like I am breathing through a straw;
I can't fill my lungs up with enough air.
Each cough leaves my esophagus more raw;
each moment I sink deeper in my chair.
Oh pollen why do you detest me so?
Why must you harass my lungs with each breath?
You bring such labor to each outward blow,
and make me feel I'm inhaling my death.
I remembered to take medication,
but the effects have forgotten to come.
I should take an extended vacation
to where instead of the pollen falls rum...
Alas! The pollen continues to spread
while I just lay here and try to play dead
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