The poem goes out to all the guys that ask this question,
"Did I do something wrong?"
What’s the difference when it’s happening to my head?
I am ready to scream,
But I dare not for I already feel the affect of my unmade cry.
What is that blasted ringing?
I want to dig my fingers in my skull and screech like a bat,
But of course I just sit in silent pain.
Oh Yahweh, please help me to refrain from killing these poor fellows.
I hate today and the next,
Because I know it will just bring the same.
Yesterday was the rose,
Now today is the thorn.
Why is the past better than the now?
You may ask.
I shall reply with a smile like the Cheshire cat,
“Because my dear, yesterday was just fine,”
“Now it’s PMS time.”