A desperate cry for help
a blind hail mary for attention.
The deserted man writes his hopes, desires on a paper.
Protected by a glass envelope.
Sent out into the crashing waves of the dark empty ocean,
traveling leagues for the chance one might open it.

Yet most of us send ourselves as messages in bottles.
So few actually allow themselves to be truly open with each other.
We hide in our protective yet fragile walls.
Our true fears, loves, ambitions trapped in our own island of glass.

Not until we find someone,
that one fish of the millions that can uncork that bottle
freeing us of our self created jail,
Our rock that can break us out of our hard shells.

We are a message in a bottle waiting to be freed.
We just wait for that one person who can open us up.

This is dedicated to the chair in the room.

No, not the elephant. He is too obvious. He is merely an inconvenience people ignore as they go about their lives. I mean the chair in the room, rather all the chairs in our lives.

Chairs are silent, to us they only seem to have the purpose to support and comfort us. this is to those who go about their lives asking for little and drawing no attention to themselves. Yet they are always there to give us a break. To help us get our work done, to help our tired legs and minds.

This is to those who are selfless in their relationships. For they give no expectation of returned favor.

This is to the chairs in our lives.