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Jun 2020
If I could speak whispering words
what would I tell you?
I've been used since birth
till death it will continue

I've seen spring
summer
autumn
winter too
naked to life's elements

I do not feel
I'm dead to the touch
I used to sit in a fantastic forrest flush
I longinly long for those days
when I felt the wonderful wind
Blow throw my spindly hair

Oh but it's gone
Instead
I'm listening to tales and weary woes
of wars had
Scars left
Tales of the neighbours wife
and wee jimmys strife
What a life

The days I long for..
when families come
with love and laughter
Galant giggles
Tenacious tickles
Forever times
but soon they depart
as I'm left enchanted
longing for the next encounter

But sometimes..
I'm as lonely as lonely gets
the lost key never found
Shrouded in a coat of sadness
Oh how I miss the place that I grew up
now I solemly sit
on all fours
as if the statue of grey friars Bobby
planted without roots

My only solace
Is the families fun
My only..
My only
This is the personification of a park bench
Written by
Steven Boston
212
   Bogdan Dragos
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