MIGRAINES
Squeezing, crushing, stabbing,
Steel picks forever driving
Through the skull to the brain,
It is hard to describe the pain.

Flashing lights come to blind
When darkness you try to find,
Every sound a loud thunder bolt,
Moving sever pain does jolt.

Sick to the stomach all the time,
Lying very still you want to whine,
You cannot read for you can’t see,
It’s even worse to watch the TV.

My migraine is beginning to fade
To throw up would give me aid,
At least the flashing lights are gone
And the stabbing ice picks all done.

Now my headaches and I feel fuzzy,
An awful feeling you will all agree,
Now if I could pack my head in ice,
And all was silent that would be nice.

(Millicent) Ann Margetson January 4, 1980