Achoo!
He's in terrible pain,
that is all he knows.
What exactly is worse?
His eyes or his nose?
For his eyes are stinging,
itchy and dull,
in a terrible state,
watering and all.
His nose gets all stuffy,
before it begins to run.
Through a mountain of tissues,
He wants it to be done.
He isn't sick,
(if he was, wouldn't say),
It's actually allergies,
ruining his day.
"John!" Sherlock shouts.
John flinches from pain.
He feels like a victim,
about to be slain.
Sherlock's on about murder,
doesn't give a lick.
He barely even notices,
That John's even sick.
Until John sneezes;
and it's so impromptu.
It's a violent sneeze,
and there's nothing to do.
Sherlock's breath goes,
to a regulated pace.
Until John notices,
he sneezed in his face.
He goes to say sorry,
but sneezes instead.
At least, this time,
it's not on his head.
Sherlock stands, turns away,
John's apology's a moan.
"Don't worry about it, John.
I'll just work alone."
I'm a big fan of this one. I love poem!stories. xD Anyway, some of it doesn't flow so well, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same!
Reviews/favourites/follows are appreciated. Thanks for reading!
