All Bottomed Out - Poem by Ruth Walters
An empty chair, positioned by a window,
the world passes it by, its upholstery is faded now.
What was once so beautiful, vibrant, rich with colour
is like her skin, pale and worn.
After 50 years of toiling they've spit her out,
her usefulness, dwindled, her time passed.
A worn out, dull eyed woman, with greying hair
and an aging frame not unlike the empty chair.
What used to be so full of life, full of warmth
and vibrancy is now resting by a tall window
where a cold wind blows and trees sway, whispering,
asking questions, lots of poignant questions....
Surely there is more to life than to be used up,
screwed up, sat upon and then unchained.
Odd how I see things now, perhaps I am
an old, empty chair, tired and all bottomed out!
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