My family is chairs, they squeak an groan,
They splinter with the passing of each day,
Each one of them empty, man made particles from a factory, blind to the fact that your daughter hates you, & the sound of slamming doors & unresolved arguments put her to sleep at night, menu closed. What's the special today, a platter of immature insults with a side of fake kindness. Is this check together or seperate. I'll tip the waiter cause everyone else has left....