Please don’t ask me how I’m doing,

I’m really not OK,

I’ve been searching my whole life,

But I’ve never found the way.

I’ve tried with being happy, 

I’ve tried just getting along,

But I never get it right,

So can’t I just be wrong?

I don’t know why it’s like this,

Or if it will always be this way,

Don’t ask about tomorrow,

I’m still worried about today.

I’ve been like this for a while,

Not really here, and not really there,

I might look callous on the outside,

But I promise that I care.

Sometimes I feel I must, 

Choose someone to be, 

But I really can’t decide —  

The indecision becomes me. 

It seems I only write these poems,

When I can’t say what it was, 

But I don’t know what it is either,

So I guess I write them just because.

Please don’t ask me how I’m doing,

I really just don’t know, 

I’ve always liked the summer,

But sometimes I miss the snow.

I’m really not that good, 

I’m truly not so fine, 

Don’t ask me how I’m doing, 

I’ll tell you another time. 

So maybe I’ll try again, 

I’ll give it one more shot,

I’ll give my life to trying then,

Like Sisyphus with the rock,

Because I know the sick still fight,

So I bet that I can too,

So I’ll get okay, with not being okay,

And maybe I’ll be alright.