Sniffles

Today I have the sniffles.
I’m a tap that’s left to drip.
I’m a minor water feature.
I’m broken, just a bit.

My nose knows no more fragrance,
I’ve no sense for sensing scents,
My schnauzer’s purely decorative,
I’m clogged and blocked, and hence:
I sniffle.

Perchance it may be better so —
At least I have not made my nose a nose unblown,
Nor starved my boyhood of its goodly feast,
Nor walked where smelling is a thing unknown.