Britain got sick.

Britain got sick. Britain got poisoned.
he came home with a fever.
sat down with sweat of his face.
then laid down with rashes all over.
he grips the bed trying to take in the pain.
his face is wiped clean of colour but for the bright red of the rash.
his eyes are dull, no reflection almost.


he is dying.


as I look around me.
at all of my family.

I see tears in my brothers eyes.
their cheeks red from trying not to cry.
hugging each other.
because they feel the pain in the air.

other brothers rush.
up and down stairs.
looking for measurements and items to hopefully save big brothers life.
one test chemicals.
the other searches through books and boxes as quick as he can.

my sister sits.
helping when she can.
watching big brother.
but must worry of herself as well.
for she is in danger.

Britain our big brother tries not to shut his eyes.
he knows that if they slip, he may never wake up.
he talks to stay awake.
his voice raspy and weak.
he can barely lift a finger.

once they find the cure.
they give it to the dying man.

now me and my sister.
then the rest of my brothers.
watch him.
and listen to his groans.
for that's all we can do now.

as we all sit there and watch it.
with blood on his chin.
he curls and pulls.
he screams and moans.
he shakes and shivers.
he rips and claws.
he coughs and scratches.
unconscious from the world around him.
for the pain has locked him out.

as I sit there and listen.
I realize the pain.
this man is known to take pain well.
just imagine how painful it is if he is ripping at his own chest screaming.
but I can't.
even with the painful screech of his moans.
I can't imagine the full pain he has.
because it is too painful.


hours go by.


his rashes still burning.......
his eyes still dull.
his hands are freezing cold.
his flesh still pale.
but he can talk and walk with a stumble.
he can breath with only a bit of a stutter.
he can smile.


thanks to my brothers.
and Britain's will to not leave us.


he is alive.