Morning Ritual Poem by Ima Ryma

I wake up feeling sick and sore.
Looking around, there's no relief.
So, I've got to go to the store -
One more pain to add to my grief.
My stomach does some flip flop churns.
I make it to the sink to puke.
My throat is raw, like fire it burns,
As I heave up in dry rebuke.
The room is spinning round and round.
In dizziness, I try to dress.
The hands do shake, the head does pound.
I look and feel like one damn mess.

Again, I dry heave in the sink.
I'll feel better after a drink.