SICKNESS

My name is sickness, I flow through the air My germs and bacteria is what I will share. I search high and low looking for prey, How much can I give? I’m generous I say. I’ll find the first child that comes down the road, With just one touch, I’ll give them a load. And soon they will lye sick in their bed, The doctor will come, hand on their head. It’s not that I’m mean; it’s the job I was given, By sticking to others is how I am driven. But then those darn scientists come along, Building up cures, making them healthy and strong. This is my life, it’s how I survive. Get out of my way, I’m staying alive. It’s a business here; don’t take it to heart, Soon I will find you, your weak and I’m smart.