This Heartless Pain/My Joys Unshared

More than any friends, family members and acquaintances I've lost along this long lonely way, I miss her friendship most. Her'S and heR's.

I wonder if all the smiles she gave me that I dream upon were false.

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"How are ye gone, whom most my soul held dear!
Scarce had I lov'd you, ere I mourn'd you lost;
Say, is this hollow eye, this heartless pain,
Fated to rove thro' Life's wide cheerless plain—
Nor father, brother, sister meet its ken—
My woes, my joys unshared! Ah! long ere then
On me thy icy dart, stern Death, be prov'd;—
Better to die, than live and not be lov'd!" – S.T. Coleridge

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All the poetry in the world, down through all the history of existence, can't return a lost heart. Not even the truest haiku.