How are you? 

I find myself asking yet again,

not out of habit, but because it is a

question that never gets replied

 

And each night,

I find myself wondering,

if you are still in pain

I know you must be,

surely your pain runs deeper than mine

 

I cannot bring myself to ask you this,

it lives only in my head

I still remember your poignant smile,

as I asked “How are you?” for the last time,

to which there was no reply

 

Sometimes the simplest of things

can be so far away and so precious

perhaps I am undeserving, perhaps

but tonight I will ask once more,

 

“How are you?”