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Description
The sky is dark and the house forlorn.
It's lonely occupant has evaded sleep
And wanders aimlessly while it tries to grab him
Around the abandoned chairs that are strewn this way and that
Loath to find a seat that is to his liking.
The tattered faded blue blanket
That he wears on his drooping shoulders
Dwarfs him in the early light
As his body caves in toward the small cup of coffee
That he hold so dearly in his gnarled hands.
His progressive saunters lead him this way and that
Around the seemingly forsaken house.
Passed the tall windows,
Which are smothered in dusty neglect,
Passed the dark and dank fire place,
With it's mouth gaping open
Black coal and soot all it has to show for itself,
Passed the tattered couch,
The fraying fabric fading
And the holes becoming larger,
Springs that are desperate for escape
Try their luck at the decaying cloth.
When finally he comes to a stool
A simple
Sturdy
Lonely
Stool
That sits at the back of the room
Where no one is likely to acknowledge it
Tucked beside the cabinet and the wall
Here he takes a seat
A smile contorting his thin lips.
There he'll stay,
A look of peace on his face
As one of his long boney hand falls to his side
And scalding coffee is poured out on his lap,
He'll finally fit in for the first time
Until time and decay take care of him.

Description
The sky is dark and the house forlorn.
It's lonely occupant has evaded sleep
And wanders aimlessly while it tries to grab him
Around the abandoned chairs that are strewn this way and that
Loath to find a seat that is to his liking.
The tattered faded blue blanket
That he wears on his drooping shoulders
Dwarfs him in the early light
As his body caves in toward the small cup of coffee
That he hold so dearly in his gnarled hands.
His progressive saunters lead him this way and that
Around the seemingly forsaken house.
Passed the tall windows,
Which are smothered in dusty neglect,
Passed the dark and dank fire place,
With it's mouth gaping open
Black coal and soot all it has to show for itself,
Passed the tattered couch,
The fraying fabric fading
And the holes becoming larger,
Springs that are desperate for escape
Try their luck at the decaying cloth.
When finally he comes to a stool
A simple
Sturdy
Lonely
Stool
That sits at the back of the room
Where no one is likely to acknowledge it
Tucked beside the cabinet and the wall
Here he takes a seat
A smile contorting his thin lips.
There he'll stay,
A look of peace on his face
As one of his long boney hand falls to his side
And scalding coffee is poured out on his lap,
He'll finally fit in for the first time
Until time and decay take care of him.