mold rhyme

[Guest guest]

Mold Rhyme

It starts with the sniffles and you think it’s the flu.

The doc gives a Z-Pak, Tylenol and says “take 2”

Your flu sticks around and something ain’t right

The coughing gets worse along with the sweats at night.

You make another appointment for the aches in your bones

Your doc suggests another trial of prednisone.

Nothing seems to help, there’s no relief in sight.

When you suggest mold to the doc, he says, “I don’t think that’s right.”

The illness gets worse and you can barely sleep.

You don’t know of any flu that lasts for 52 weeks.

You see another doc and tell him your body is aching.

Most of the people you tell actually think that you’re faking.

The landlords ignore you, being rude and obnoxious.

I wish they only knew the effects of these toxins.

You surf the Internet, and find there’s many like you.

Now you are sure: this is definitely not the flu.

The days are a struggle and the nights are even longer.

You wish you could do something, you used to be stronger.

All you hear from your doc is you have allergies.

Then why is your test negative yet you still have that wheeze?

He mentions fibromyalgia and chronic fatigue.

You need another doc, this guy’s out of his league.

You finally find a doc, in a town called Pocomoke.

But the other doctors say that his theory’s a joke.

You make the trip by plane, to this town in land.

It doesn’t take you long to realize he understands.

He runs some simple tests on your blood and your sight.

After failing the VCS, it confirms you were right.

When your results come back, he says to call him by phone.

What is this new thing: Melanocyte Stimulating Hormone?

The blood tests show exposure, as did the vision test screen.

He prescribes an old drug: cholestyramine.

It’s been six weeks and you’re beginning to feel better.

You want to thank him, but don’t know what to put in the letter.

The trip to Pocomoke was worth it, I knew I wasn’t a faker.

Thank God for this guy: Dr. Ritchie Shoemaker.

The lawsuit begins, the company still says you’re faking.

If only they could experience how bad your joints were aching.

The defense says it’s nothing and insists it’s just mold.

The bills keep coming in, now you’re out in the cold.

The insurance companies say this illness is all hype.

They don’t realize you’re sick because of your genotype.

As the studies pile up, the truth will come out.

The defense surely sees that this trial is a rout.

You finally win your case and your friends think you’re wealthy.

You would trade it in a second for the chance to be healthy.

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