Why?

 Why?

I walk between sighs 

while I cook, while I sleep, while I work

and everything as a deja vú,

as a reality

but why?

I can't wake up anymore

without your voice adorning my days,

an unreal voice

because you're not here.

Why?

The truth is a scar in my words

that truth is,

how Pink Floyd sings,

I Wish You Were Here