poem

Decorative ChairThere ’s a lone decorative chair over thereAgainst a wall, facing another wall;Flanked by a skinny non-committal table displaying A framed piece of objet d ’art,Faux wood etched with a scripted “Love Lives Here”.But no one loves this chair.No one ever sits there,To read, to sip some  teaOr to wait for someone to find their keys.Austere gray-green velvety skinStretched taut over a meager thinCushion, armless, propped on peggish mahogany legs,Uninviting, forlorn, don ’t bother;You ’d be better off just leaning against the wall.The back seems to lean forwardAs if it were itching to spring upAnd bound from this roomLike a deer disturbed from a nap in the wood.It looks anxious over there, thwarted.It can ’t be the thing it was crafted to be.It ’s not quite seen, it accents nothing.Can ’t even be the fake thing Someone else deemed it to be.It just wants to get out of here, ok?Go someplace where it can be achair.But it ’s trapped, unloved, unrewarded.No one ever said that this life had to be fair.1/13/20

Source: Buckeye Surgeon - January 12, 2020 Category: Surgery Authors: Jeffrey Parks MD FACS Source Type: blogs