There’s nothing so pleasing as the act of diseasing
An innocent child or two.
To see them break out with claws or a snout
Will always feel wonderfully new.

On Monday I’ll lurk at the school where I work
And strike down a boy with the mumps.
There’ll be cries of boo-hoo, and snot like thick glue,
Before he erupts into lumps.

Tuesday is good, as I’ll stir up some blood
And cause an infection of gout.
Kids will limp home with a creak in each bone
And I’ll smile whenever they shout.

For Wednesday I’ll lead with a virulent bead
Dropped into their afternoon snack.
This will cause warts, and unpleasant thoughts,
That can only be cured on the rack.

On Thursday the girl with the golden kiss-curl
Will get all the bad things I’ve planned.
I’ll be sure to leave her with dread scarlet fever
And skin which is as rough as the sand.

Friday is my day, a make-them-all-cry-day
A day that really just rocks.
I’ll have them itching and scratching, snitching and snatching,
And bursting with red chickenpox.

And then comes the weekend, it’s time for a break and
To indulge in a pastime or two.
I shall walk in the park for it is such a lark
To take someone down with the flu.

On Saturdays it’s glorious to make some kids furious
With an unusual case of the measles.
As you lie on the grass you may see them all pass
Like a pack of the most horrid weasels.

Come Sunday I’ll rest, in a tie and string vest
And dream up new deadly diseases.
I’ll brew up some strains of excruciating pains
Simply because it just pleases.

It will be quite the week of sickening the meek
And laying them low in their beds.
But why do I do what I do towards you?
Is it something to do with my meds?

Am I mad? Am I cruel? Am I some kind of sick fool?
Such questions are normal to pose.
I like company, you see, when my large surgery
Is so full to the brim and won’t close.

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Illustration courtesy and copyright, Jools Wilson.