The Migraine
Hot pokers sear my mind, and in my brain
The lights -- electric blue and blinding white --
Impede my view. A fireball in flight
Appears on the periphery, then wanes.
The agony has dimmed, to my delight.
But now, in cotton wool, I feel the strain
Of looking through a telescope in vain
Because it's turned around -- a funny sight.
Well, finally the throbs begin to wane
As medication acts and puts to flight
Incessant thoughts about my head; I'm quite
Relieved that I'm no longer in such pain.
But now, compulsive chatter's at its height.
I murmur thoughts while rushing through the night.
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