An Old Man’s Chair
His life gone. Possessions in flames after his death
An Old Man’s Chair
The house stood quiet, still as stone,
Life once lived, now ended, here no more.
Within the week, his walls laid bare,
No trace of him, just an empty chair.
His chair, once creaking with his weight,
Was tossed outside, by the garden gate.
Upon the bonfire, flames did lick,
A Guy Fawkes now sat in it, a cruel trick.
I shivered deep, my heart turned cold,
Imagining him, frail and old,
Perched in that chair as shadows grew,
A ghostly sight, it made me so blue.
His life reduced to ash and smoke,
A very sad tale, a cruel fate.
And yet, the embers seemed to say,
Remember me, don’t look away.
I was once here, now I am gone,
Life, my sweet one, carries on.
Fear not death or mortal things,
My life held joy once, and now,
I am at one.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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Comments (2)
Such a hauntingly beautiful piece! The chair really becomes a symbol of memory and loss. I love the shift from sadness to peace in the end. Very moving, yet calming!
This is a poem to make one think about one's life. Good job.