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?”