Misery

About the title: So Ben is forcing us to write a poem as one of our blog posts. Cruel? Yes, very. Especially to those who cannot write poetry. No, it is not true that everyone has a poet inside them. The words that come from a person's mind and flow onto a page do not always make sense. They are not always beautifully or cleverly articulated. Let's face it; some people write trash. With that said, here is the poem I an being forced to write. The title describes how I felt that day.

Misery

One Saturday morning,
rolled out my bed.
Couldn't stop the pounding,
coming from my head.
Should have stayed at home,
but went out instead.

It's just female nature.
I know I'll be okay.
So on to Indianola,
for a catfish lunch that day.
Couldn't stand the smell,
had to get away.
So I snuck off to a corner,
to keep the nausea at bay.

All that didn't work,
still thought that I would die.
My life flashed before my eyes,
and I tried not to cry.
Misery is the best word
to describe that moment.
Looked at my life and realized I didn't own it.


Misery Part II

pain.
misery.
dehydration.
life.
lies!
death.
end.


Happy now Ben? You forced me to produce this mess.