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Àŧùl Oct 2019
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Demons seem stuck in my nose,
Eerie suffocation haunts me often,
Vile are the consequences,
Irked I am to say the least,
A choking sensation threatens me,
Throttling my breath away,
Even the best medicines won't help,
Day of surgery beckons me.

Nostrils struggle to keep hydrated enough,
Awful is the nasal sound that I make,
Sniffling loud enough all the time,
A snorting man is not so pleasant,
Losing my years, I am, due to it.

Seldom passes a minute I don't snort,
Elephantine this issue becomes,
Putting a bad impression of mine,
Taking care not to let people be friends,
Ultra irritated I am by myself,
Must is an intranasal surgery.
DNS also means Domain Name System but in my case it means a Deviated Nasal System.
I am going for an intranasal surgery early next year.
It will require me to be unconscious by administration of general anæsthesia.
I don't fear the OT.
I have survived worse.
I have survived the worst.
However, funds are an issue for me.
I don't want to bother my parents.

My HP Poem #1779
©Atul Kaushal
sleepy hallow
would tell
a sociology
their dark
foment of
capture and
rude awakening
as superfluous
launch of
mystery in
wee hours
that could
creep beyond
there with
a retentiveness
of unfaithful
and deviated
law again
a lawyer's touch

— The End —