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The Chair

It seems I’m all alone
Like one seems to care
My pain is still unknown
True happiness is rare

Tears fall down like rain
Upon a face that’s bare
This life is full of pain
It never has been fair

I need some self-expression
But with whom would I share?
If I had their attention
Who says they’d even care?

Walking through life blindly
As if there’s nothing there
I wish someone would find me
Dismantle my despair

But I haven’t any hope
For this life beyond repair
So I’ll live out my days
Rotting, idle in this chair

Published inPoems

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© 2018 Michael Halstead