Belly kills,
There are no thrills,
In periods from hell!
I wish I could sell,
I’d trade it in,
Even for a sin.
This pain has to go,
Or at least flow.
Laughter hurts more,
My hands and knees grow sore.
Walking just another train wreck.
Hoping, waiting till 14:15 so I can hit the sack.
Bad test has been done,
Bad grades that’s no fun.
Even after the period, dreaming of Hyatt.
Those grades would still be a riot.
But at least I’ll have my old self back,
Being happy dressed in black.
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