With your bottom resting on me
you roam the world of poetry
display spectrum of your poetic mood
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

I hold your frame over day and night
weight of your spirit soaring to height
your struggle to find in all only good
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

I rest your arms on my armrest
for your comfort I do my best
see you don't fall when in deep brood
ever bothered about this piece of wood?

For years my touch has kept you at peace
carried you safe seated with ease
when empty yawns the space I stood
is it then you would realize worth of my wood?