Reality of Him
I dream and wish not to awaken.
Reality bites me in the ass
and I see him, not you, telling me there's
more dishes to wash, more laundry to fold, more mouths to feed.
There's enough of everything to keep insanity content
but no love for the lonely fool that longs for you, not him.
Poem © 2000 Lynda Jones, all rights reserved
appears here by permission