THE LONELY CHAIR

THE LONELY CHAIR

Look at it just sitting there

So helpless so alone

The emptiness the loneliness

Is something it has known

It stands alone across from me

Reminding me each day

It's seat is always empty

No one ever comes to stay

I sit across the table

Wondering if things might ever change

But it's been alone for oh so long

A "companion" just might feel strange

So as I sit with my dinner before me

And say my prayer of thanksgiving

I ask of myself and my lonely chair

Is this what one calls living?

How nice it would be to have someone

With dinner and wine to share

Instead I look at the emptiness

That fills my poor lonely chair

Reviews

[Cicera]

Now the chair is not lonely anymore! I like poems written on observation of objects and then connecting, reflecting or paralleling those thoughts on feelings. And I do not doubt that those feelings are genuine, delicate and not just passing by.

People who do not have experiences often with loneliness are generally far too busy to make such observations, or even notice or care or give one thought in depth about all those objects that sit around them so lonely all the days.