I Want a Chair

When I was a kid at Christmas,

I’d sit at the foot of the table

on a piano bench with my sister.

I am the youngest—

my birth displaced my brother to

his very own chair

on the right side of the table.

I couldn’t wait until I had my own chair.

A chair meant dignity.

My brother would speak and

my parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents

would perk their ears to what he said.

I was on the bench,

so when I spoke,

my sister was my only audience.


I am older now.

I have two little cousins

who now sit on the bench.

I finally have a chair.

But when I speak,

I’m still not heard

or respected

like my brother was and is.

Maybe it’s because

I’m on a different side of the table?

This poem is about: 
My family
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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