Maybe I can Pretend
Maybe I can pretend that
I'm a hopeless romantic with
A handsome prince waiting
Somewhere for me to
Find.
Perhaps I might imagine
I'm a professor at a university with
A clumsy disposition and
Glasses askew on
My head.
It is possible to picture
Myself living alone with
A pot of pasta cooking
Reading Jane Austen
Peacefully.
Maybe I can forget
The work and problems
I have to do through
Dreaming.
Perhaps I might restrain
The tears and sniffles that
Want to fall from my eyes
Forever.
It is possible to not picture
The failures and disasters left
While I say I am not disheartened
Yet.
Maybe I should return to
Reality.
Perhaps I should see my problem as it
Is.
Is it possible to remember what is
Important.
Something wrong with this poem?
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