My Poetry. The Pain we bear!

Silence in the room
Is what you require;
Your head is spinning,
You start to perspire.

Alone in the dark,
The pain is intense;
Nothing is helping,
Spare no expense.

Feeling sick,
You cannot relax;
Round in circles,
Migraine at max.

Certain foods you eat
Can make it worse;
This horror in your body,
A satanic curse.

You cannot see anyone,
You need to be alone;
The slightest noise,
Even the phone.

Eventually, the pain
Starts to depreciate;
You can face the light
From the window grate.

You can cope with pain,
But migraines are severe;
You cannot do anything
But await it with fear.

© William Sinclair Manson 2025