It’s not that I don’t want you
To ever go to sleep.
I’m just afraid that you’ll forget
About this post-nasal seep,
And so every now and then
I give your throat a tickle
And hope that while you’re coughing
You think about my mucus trickle.
When, like me, you’re just a symptom
It’s hard to find romance,
But when you crawled into your bed
I thought I’d take a chance.
Well, now you probably hate me
And I don’t blame you a bit.
Sorry it wasn’t good for you,
But I take what I can get.
The Daily Travesty 