Wrong Chair

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.


Yien 05.13.15

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4 thoughts on “Wrong Chair

  1. I pondered this for some time. It is heavily loaded with emotional thought. What this life can do to an individual’s life can become cruel. One thought comes to mind. Was this man worn down as he took on the world for his loved ones or is it possible his loved ones brought down his world. Either can allow despair and defeat to win and empty one’s body and soul leaving nothing but numbness and dejection. Makes me really appreciate all I have.

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  2. Thanks for reading my poem. πŸ™‚
    To explain the poem, the chair is the world, and the man is, us, human being. The man conform too much to the world that is eating his life, his convictions and values. And yes, his soul became empty and numb.

    Just so you know, I believe that most poetry depends on the reader’s understanding. Thank you for sharing your thoughts!
    Blessings to you! πŸ™‚

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