My Time of the Month

I’m in a funk,
stuck in the mud,
my time of the month.
I want to hide,
under my bed,
wait for the day to end.
I play the sad songs,
knowing it won’t help.
It just feels good,
to know I’m not alone.
Let the night come,
to drive away the sun.
Tomorrow will be better,
sooner now then later.
In any case I will wait,
as patient as I can.
Until tomorrow,
so I can smile once more.