Mental Pause

There is a demon deep inside of me,
Tucked away where you cannot see.

The torment, and the angry swirl...
Who am I?  I don't know this girl!

The rage rips through in surges -
I can't fight the violent urges;

I want to lash out, to end my pain;
To stop the track of the devil's reign.

It scares me - the power behind my rage;
To approach me?  Eh, it's tough to guage

The reaction, or the consequence.
Fore, I haven't been the same way since

Mother nature came and deftly stole;
Then left me in this hellish hole

Of sweat and tears and mental flow
That keeps on churnning, doncha' know?

"Why?" I ask, "I'm only 38!"
It isn't fair - you have to wait

To claim my God-given rights,
Of woman-hood and sweatless nights.

I protest!  I will not go gently -
You'll have to drag me with howls aplenty

Kicking and screaming down the halls
Into the barren wasteland of menopause.

                                      Tracy Henson