The Itch

 

20150705_083707

Back scratching at Kadri Park 

The greatest torture-

That itch on your back.

 

Your fingers don’t reach,

Your short nails miss

And the itch grows big,

A sadistic demon,

Sniggering whilst you twist and squirm

And scream for help.

Your helper, the Good Samaritan,

Amused, unsympathetic,

Runs his fingers along your spine

While you instruct in frustration,

“Not there, here

Not here, there

Scratch higher

No, a bit lower

Aaaaaaaaah, right there, scratch harder!”

But the more the scratching,

The more the itching

 

It now jumps like an imp

From one part of your hapless back

To another remote part

The Good Samaritan laughs.

It’s a good joke.

 

Fret not! No itch is eternal!

It comes and goes

Like all things in life.

A visitor of a short time!

So bear it and grin!

Although the photo is recent, the poem was written years ago. I found it recently in my hard disk and thought I would share it here. 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s