Poetry

Old Wooden Rocking Chair

I, am still waiting for the day
When my life shall be taken away
I sit in a wooden rocking chair
All day
And all night
For I shall not fight my fate
I shall give in to it sooner
I wait and wait
Not saying a word
Sitting in total silence
Waiting for death to end the life
People say I have no life
But that tis not true
For if I had no life
I wouldn't be here talking to you
I'd be wherever people go when they die
But instead, I'm sitting here
My skin slowly rotting away
Waiting for death to end my life
For I hath not the strength
People talk but words dont hurt you
Or do they
Hurt the words do
The words might make you end
Sooner than you shall
That is why I'm sitting here
In this old wooden rocking chair
My skin rotting
Waiting for death to end my life
For I hath not the strength to do what shall be done
What shall happen
One day...