The Hangover Poem by Dean Simpson

My head hurts
My arm hurts
My leg hurts
My everything hurts.

Too much alcohol
Oh God! does it hurt,
Im trying to write this poem
But right now i feel like my heads filled with dirt.

The night before i was happy and jolly
The music was good
The people were happy
Now we all sit here, holding our heads and rubbing our stomachs.

Why is it that us good ol' British
Go out of our way
To put ourselves
Through future pain?

Oh the pain...