BellyAching

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What’s that I hear?


Under my shirt?


That rumbling voice,


Is starting to hurt.


 


It speaks in tremors,


it speaks to me until


I think this thing in my gut,


Has its own free will.


 


Its grumbling groans,


Its mournful moans,


It rumbles in zones,


that rattles my bones


 


So what must I do?


To council this foe?


And sooth my belly through,


This time of woe.


 


I will give it time,


And allow it send,


Me sweetly off to sleep,


And rejoin me again, as my bodily friend.

Created: Mar 22, 2012

Tags: independent poetry, poem, poems, funny poem

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