Tell me, please. It ain't true.

A living nightmare. I’m better to fall asleep. And hope for a sweet dream. To replace the nightmarish reality I’m experiencing in my waking hours. I need relief. A respite from my on-going, fully-conscious nightmare.  It’s driving me crazy. Don’t know how much longer I can endure it. My heart is pounding. I’m scared. Yes, it’s possible.  I could die of fright.  Tell me. Tell me, please. That Donald Trump isn’t our president.  --Jim Broede