One eventful monsoon evening down the pot-holed street,
Skilfully dodging puddles as slime and grime bathed my feet.
They called him the Buzz in town, the one who went astray
He took one look at my bare legs, and I knew I was his prey.
Advancing towards me, he moved with a choreographed stealth
I clapped even before his show began; he wasn't good for my health.
Sensing an opening, he swooped in before I could act
And he kissed me - The presence of mind to fight him, I lacked.
Now here I sit everyday, staring up at the whitest white
Injections, blood tests, tablets - it's too late to put up a fight.
The world had warned me, but little did I know
That it would be so horrifying to get kissed by a mosquito.
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