Just Another Day

They ask if she's okay. Why today? Because her silence echoes. So bizarre, how she seems So hollow. Why today? She's fine, she says. She's fine. It's a lie. But just close your eyes, Accept her lie. Let her disappear For a while. Because this - This is her every night. By day she's got Autopilot on hand - To get her through with A grin, With laughter and jokes, And perhaps, A bottle of gin. But even autopilot breaks. Why today? Why is she so resolutely empty? She's piloting on her own, But she has no power, No control. No fuel and no hope. They ask if she's okay. She's fine. Well. She's alive. Just give her a day - Or ten. To fill up on hope So her autopilot Can regain control. Why today? Why not? It's just another in the line. She's got to break down some time.