Good Morning Headache
I woke up to the alarming smell of bad news.  Good morning headache let me begin to disect 
myself.  Let me out.  The big fish eat the little fish that eat me.  I'm out my depth and out of breath 
with no life support.  Let me out.  The gloves you wear on your greedy hands are slowly wearing 
through.  You lick your bate then cast your crooked line into the sea for me.  Hurricanes of falsehood 
sweep the dry and dusty land slowly engulfing and deflating all of us.  Let me out.