I’ve got a migraine And my pain will range from up, down, and sideways, Thank God it’s Friday ‘Cause Fridays will always be better than Sundays ‘Cause Sundays are my suicide days, I don’t know why they always seem so dismal, Thunderstorms, clouds, snow, and a slight drizzle, Whether it’s the weather or the letters by my bed, Sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head, Let it be said what the headache represents, It’s me defending in suspense, It’s me suspended in a defenseless test Being tested by a ruthless examiner That’s represented best by my depressing thoughts, I do not have writer’s block, My writer just hates the clock, It will not let me sleep, I guess I’ll sleep when I’m dead, And sometimes death seems better than the migraine in my head.

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