Like archaic floods

When we’re hit, infected by  disease
Especially of the systems, like the blood.
The mind can drop, depressed and ill at ease

We over- ruminate, on subtle causes  grieve.
A pity that our brain is not  just wood
With  fortune then mistaken by  disease

If  drugs which kill bacteria,minds relieve
We understand why thinking was no good
The body was depressed and lacked true ease

Gentle music, touch and calm  relieve
The nervous system , make our hearts feel good
When the mind’s depressed by our disease

So if your friend has moods which may  displease
Remember they are made of flesh and blood
The brain can be pulled down and even freeze.,

Fever makes the barriers sink to  mud
Unconscious feelings  roll out like archaic floods
When you are affected by  disease
Ban all thinking, wait  for time’s release.



About Kate Thwaite

I love writing , conversation, art, wild flowers, music and air.And books
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