In between bouts of pain I clutch at straws
Well I’ve got news for you foul beast
Not another day will I feed your greed
I’m getting off your medication
Your bowl will be empty
Your greed unfed. And you will die
That I may live.
In between bouts of pain I clutch at straws. Many conditions keep the straw market buoyant But migraines are up there with ME, depression and non specific abdominal cramps.
Sadly most straws are expensive
And the condition not just painful but greedy
Migraines eat my life in gobfuls
There’s never a week when they don’t
Gnaw a day sometimes two
More often they stuff in three
How fat they grow on medication
slurping it down like snouts in a trough
and then they squat in the shadows
burping, farting vomiting
waiting for the next meal.
And this is one straw I shall clutch until death us do part.