Lonely Chair

A lonely chair in a corner.
Sits and waits anxiously
in the exact same spot by the window
every single day.
Face drawn up with disapproval,
looks out with eyes of judgement,
criticizes everything in sight.
A microscope finding faults,
points out imperfections
with long, bony hands.


Why can’t I write poems that rhyme?
Poems that rhyme.
Yes, that’s right.
I’ve tried my hand at this rhyming thing
at least a dozen times but they always
sound like amateur nursery ….
…….(yep, you guessed it)