I am a Chair

LeAnne Pollock

I am a chair
Sitting in the foyer
Minding my own business
Collecting dust, looking proper
When with a sudden burst
I'm wanted, needed, loved
But then it turns sour
I'm kicked and thrown
Shoved and stepped upon
Can anyone see?
That I cannot breathe and I'm unhappy.
Then minutes later 
I'm back to the same
Just a cold, barren fabric
Draped over a worthless frame.
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