Celebration

It’s that time of the year again
When I suffer thorough pain

I PMS on life
The relation is rife
Something is still strife
Yes, that’s my prize. 

It’s like a pack of ice
On my heart 
Its still a vice
A mistake on my part. 

I am turning into a loon
This life, a balloon 
Waiting to burst
The pin has the thirst. 

Tagged: poetry