How are you my dear?
They always ask, don’t they?
Day after day the strangers inquire,
Though not a single one aspires
To actually shun
Your painful shingles.
Don’t I sit here and watch?
Don’t I sit by and cry?
It seems by and by that my tears tend to flow
Just for a sick twisted show
To fund your gifted,
Love, can you not yell?
Can you not drive your fright to the wall?
Don’t allow your former shells
To dig a mud and blood filled well
That they deem fit to guild
With your winning guts.
My dear, I will not ask again.
I know you’re hurt under plastic smiles,
So I promise I’ll smile, nod, and wave like always.
I’ll do so until my smiles and I part ways
And I return to the start
With tears in my eyes
And my shattered heart in a shopping bag.