It’ll spread. —No, it won’t.
—If scratching doesn’t spread it,
Then why can’t I scratch? It itches!
—Don’t scratch! Scratching leaves scars.
—Don’t say “leaves” again. I hate them.
They started this mess! —Don’t scratch!
You don’t have it as bad as others.
—Well, I have it bad enough.
A-a-a-a-a-ah!! Why me?
Is there any relief?
Written 1992, revised 2002
© 2017 Angela Umphers Rueger – All Rights Reserved
Photo courtesy of Pixabay
The original version of this poem came out of months of agony over a poison ivy rash that would not go away. It covered nearly every part of my body and affected my entire life. It was probably the worst experience I had ever had to that point. Needless to say, I’m a lot more careful around poison ivy now!