How are you?
Asked the cheerful lady,
Living in 309 down the hall.
How are you?
Eyed the watchful doorman,
As he opened the doors.
How are you?
Grumbled my stern boss,
He just kept walking by.
How are you?
The waitress politely inquired,
Her smile screamed hidden hate.
How are you?
Questioned the nosy old woman,
Despite the answer, she asked again.
Tired from all the how are you,
I only cared for one above all.
That was my joyful dog,
Licking my day away.
Very nice. How often the question is asked and no one stays around long enough, or cares enough, to wait for the reply. Except….our trusty companions. I enjoyed that!
Observational poetry at its best… funny and real… I’ve been there!!!