Early stages of grief: recognizing there is a problem and sadness, yet trying to avoid and bargain with it.
I chase a dream to make it seem that someone still loves me.
But he ere must go, seems it must be so. What I get doesn’t flatter me.
I shed a tear. I wish for beer, but none of it can help.
From my dream I must wean, rough realities do seem mean.
Oh, to be a puppy with hope for a yelp.
Copyright by Hildra Tague. Obtain permission of author for use online or in print.