Chairy-tale

Once upon a time, a wooden chair.

A mute, still, old, wooden chair.

Sitting by the chair, and chained to it, and happy about it,

You think those people envy your happiness, don’t you?

You think they want to steal your chair?

And some nights, you beg your chair not to leave you.

You beg your chair not to listen to them.

You beg your chair to forgive your past.

You love your chair, well, obviously you do.. don’t you?

So what’s the problem today? Why so sad?

Oh, your chair does not like your new hair?
Your chair is bored with your drama?
Your chair thinks you’re disgusting?
Your chair fell on your face and gave you a blue eye?

Isn’t is cold enough now?
Isn’t it dark enough now?
Aren’t you worth more than a still pain in the ass chair?
Isn’t your hair worth a thousand kisses and whispers?
Is this the end of you now?

You wouldn’t let a chair hurt you, you’ll just find yourself some comfy sofa?

Why is it okay if it’s a person?
Are they any more of use in your life than an extra piece of furniture?
Do you dear, need a picture?