Chair in the Room

The chair

Ironically sits alone

in the darkness of the room.

The chair

Once proud and rich 

Is now rubbed down and squeaky

The chair sits alone

No one to rock it

No one to relax in its arms

So the chair asks itself,

"Do I still have a use?" 

This poem is about: 


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741