He is sitting on the wrong chair.
He tells me he doesn’t care.
His eyes has too much flare,
What’s in his mind? I can’t stare!
His face doubled
Looking at him, I become feebled
Who is the man I am seeing?
What is he feeling?
Blank eyes with no emotion at all,
White lips with no blood to flow,
Potruding cheeks which escape the fall,
Bushes of eyebrows in stall.
This man becomes a stranger,
Nothing is familiar after.
He sat on that chair with no anger.
He was once a fighter but now shattered.