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There’s this ache in my head
It viciously runs my spine
Is it because I’m very sad,
Or because of all that wine?

It becomes terribly confusing
To stand still, almost paralyzed
it’s completely terror inducing
it twists my mind as sterilized

Completely empty it might be
Assaulted thoughts of worry
And the biggest burden for me
Is that letter reading “I’m sorry”
A rough morning.

— The End —