A Headache

I use to go to bed with a headache And when morning came it was still there, Most of the times at night (in suffering) it kept me awake I would scream, I would argue and I would swear. I thought how could any man live with this type of pain, Without wishing for death, or going insane. I use to go to bed, but first I would say my prayers Then for awhile I wouldn't say them at all, Though I still had my worries and my cares But, I didn't want to kneel, I wanted to be seen standing tall. I knew that there would be a headache attacking me, And I hated the discomfort and its agony. I use to go to bed, peacefully and all alone Oh how memorable and restful was my sleep, With no headaches or fighting or even a knee bone I then didn't count bullets, I only counted sheep. Then I thought while in that loneliness that I needed a wife, But, was that me speaking, or was it from my desolation and midlife. I use to constantly wrestle with my demons Nightly inflamed by a headache and by my struggle, With worries and distress and also separate opinions So, with her (my headache) I just gave up, I just decided to snuggle. How far in hell (I thought) must be my decent, To keep receiving this anguish and constant torment. Randy L. McClave