Billy Butterworth

His name was Billy Butterworth. A tattooed lump of lad. He spent all days down the gym. Pumping iron was his fad. His muscles inflated and ready to pop. His girlfriend deflated and gave him the chop. But bothered oh no he knew he could pull. Living for him was never dull. He lived life in the fast lane. Invincibility, his only domain. Nothing could ever touch him. Ego bright but a little dim. His mum she tried to warn her lad. Stay at home this virus seems pretty bad. Come on mum nothing will touch me. I’m fit as a fiddle as you can see. Besides it only affects old fogies like you. Put the kettle on let’s have a brew. Night after night he partied with mates. Went out with some lasses on plenty of dates. He ignored his mum, he didn’t believe her. Until that fateful day he developed a fever. 

Look here son what have you done. Pleaded his mum as she dialled 111. Billy struggled to catch his breath. Thought he was bloody close to death. They put him on a ventilator. His mum a distant spectator. Days passed increasingly pessimistic. Until the call to say he was now a Covid 19 statistic!


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