Monday, April 27, 2015
A POEM BY AUTHOR/POET GARY G PELOW, THE ITCH.
The itch is back, the need to scratch and than bleed, this scabies scourge is barbaric with itching and rash, I scratch and scratcch to the point of drawing blood through sores and scabies digging tunnels, this filthy apartment, infested with mites, the scratching hurts and draws blood and I do not know how to stop it, this itch, this scourge, calomine lotion, psoriasis cream used to no avail, I try hard to cope, to reduce the scratching and stop spreading the eggs of mites all over the place, yet the scratching continues and the mites continue to dig through my epidermis, my skin, to lay more eggs, to infest me further. I am losing my patience, temper and I am filled with anxiety, I struggle through my day with mites and my psychosis, I do not know how it will end, we shall see.
Posted by Unknown at 10:44 AM