A cold that refuses to be called Common

Sometimes an illness claims a life of its own.

Yes this counts

As an end of summer

Cold.

It has me dragging around,

Hoping that a hot shower

Will make a dent.

Yes this counts.

This cold has me by the throat

And nose.

This cold says

I have blamed

Mere allergies

Too long.

Call me by my given name

It says,

Accuracy is paramount.

I am not a simple spell

Of allergies.

I will not be called

“Common.”

I am your End of Summer Cold.

Hot showers be damned.