Rich coffee aroma consumes the room.
Coffee’s perfume and red lights relax about.
Your round face is polished exquisitely.
While your pink and turquoise dress flares and touts.
I watch you from a dank, lonely corner.
My wooden frame squeaks and moan all throughout.
Your steel basks in light making an aura.
Your beauty twinkles brilliantly and spouts.
Once I sat with you, enjoying my day.
Falling for your steel and all of your grout.
Then a rant, roar, and swish broke me in half.
After, I was discarded like a lout.
Now, I can only watch you from afar.
My love engulfs my being and shrilly shouts.
A new chair now kisses your underside.
If I am fixed one day, I’m swinging clouts.
His metal frame does shine very nicely.
But wood versus metal, would win no doubt.
I’m attractive and more comfortable.
He’s very hard and ugly in stout.
Next Thursday is trash day and I’ll be gone.
My frame will die, but not my love’s devout.
The things a chair would say if it could speak; I wonder : o