The Empty Chair

It is sad that he will sit no more

In such a comfortable chair

Friends had come to know him there

Beyond the paint-frayed door

Not free to meet them as before

Those brave to climb his urban stair

He can track no more or wonder where

Or what they went there for

 

He will no longer open his eyes on this

There is no key to break the rust

Or use his time in bed to raise

The memories of life’s heated lust

The frozen lock is jammed all days

The empty chair is rich in dust

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