The Red Chair Poem by Kyle Lowback

Sitting on a chair, help never comes

Nobody ever comes to tell you how to do
things, neither do they come to you and
help you at anything: you're lost

The chair you're sitting on is red and
so is the the color of love, people say,
and this is why you bought the chair
'cause it's red and it made you think
that it would bring you love

Then your gramma pops into your head
and while you're thinking about her you
remember her saying that whatever you
would come to need in life you would
have to come and take it yourself 'cause
'ain't nobody gonna give you nothin''

And so there on the chair you remain thinking about
what to do and how to do it in a way people
will accept it, in a way people will appreciate it
even and so you think that'll make you happy: you're
so silly, aren't you; you're a piece of work, aren't you?

The house is dark, cable is dead, you've just eaten
something that made you sick and you only know the
chair is red 'cause you yourself bought it