by Shel Silverstein
I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can't do a handstand-- I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said--
I'm just not the same since there's rain in my head.
This poem (along with the picture shown below) is a pretty accurate rendering of how an upper respiratory infection makes you feel. FYI.